Las Canciones Escarlatas
by River Child
Summary: [I'm back peeps! Chp. 9's up] Jak and Daxter, the sons of a deceased king, left in the care of their uncle Samos, King of Haven City and his daughter, Keira. The three royal children travel during the raging war against the Wastelanders.
1. Prologue: Through A Goddess' Eyes

Author's Note: If you want to know, this chapter is not really necessary to read. It just explains what is and what has been going on in the story. However, it is useful for later chapters to help understand the reasons behind the character relations, some things about the plot, some of the character's roles, find some things about some of the characters and introduce some of OOCs that will appear in the story.

Also numbers within parentheses that follow a word: e.g. (2) means that it is something I will explain to you in the end of the chapter.

Also, this chapter is told in the first person view of one of the many deities mentioned in this story.

Prologue: Through A Goddess' Eyes

Throughout the endless ages of my godhood, I witnessed the many advancements of mankind. I am willing to concede that with those times of achievements, they stirred great pride within all the untouched souls of the Gods, Goddesses, the Precursors, and even this cold, void space most mortals acknowledged as the core of the sedate Meeka (1), or my heart. Us eternal ones had every reason to be overwhelmed with this emotion as we were in those days, young and strongly labored to create an immaculate world of wonder and beauty, along with unique beings that we produced to remove the immense and depressing solitude that us immortals suffered from and make the desolate realm bustling with new life. Yes, the mortals beneath our heavenly domain above, quickly delivered us from loneliness, but later within centuries we learned that our creations were as flawed as they were beautiful, distinctive and full of many talents.

Along with the risings of civilizations, inventions, ideas and beliefs, I have seen with my eyes as well the other greats, the wanes of humanity. It was not until a couple years later, the human beings chose to act against laws of the lands that we firmly commanded to be followed. By us, they were made into different forms, genders, and cultures, they were a young race and as all the traits of youth go, unfortunate for their sake and ours, they were filled with fear, though they were under Laramay's (2) protective sight. Another foolish and unlucky trait was insecurity, even though we praised their whole existence and loved them as a mother and father would. Unknown to some, insecurity and fear can be the most deadly substances to create great chaos. As fear, for things and people they did not understand, grew within some of the mortals, so did a distrust and thus the distrust ignited a terrible anger that unleashed violence upon others and destroyed their lives. The insecurity transformed into self-hatred as some of the mortals attempted to deny their heritages and force others to suffer for being different from them.

Soon conflicts within religions begin to emerge. Was it not enough for these troublesome mortals to desecrate their world for objectives that were petty, bring about destruction and confusion, and bring tears to our eyes of the many innocent lives laid to waste? Now they desire to combat each other to bring the other into conversion of the other religion and actually convinced their selves that they are in these foolhardy battles for the greater good of showing the 'heathens' the right path, when in actuality, within these minds lies tremendous vanity. So much death, havoc and despair had undergo through these bloodstained centuries, and millenniums. If only if we had not been behold such tragic histories, then some of us great ones will still have faith in that humans will return from this damaging path. I will had still stubbornly believed that Maheeshah, (3) the deposed God of Evil, that I had vanquished long ago, had returned and took his revenge by tainting the once-innocent human race and let his Evils of his Underworld scattered across the world.

However, that was then, this is now, I no longer have reliance in the human race to change and most of the eternal beings do not either, save my peaceful sister, Aruna, (4) Goddess of the Dawn and Hope and the Precursors, but they always contain naivety about humanity and their traits ever since their creation. Even now, a continuous clash of arms still perseveres now between Odyn's city, Haven City, and the people of the Wasteland, some of which are of my descent. All because many years ago, once, the Wastelanders then, used to call Haven City their home, the fools of the northern, and eastern sides of Haven City and their present ruler at the time were once again blinded by fear and distrust of the darker-toned and haired people of the western and southern sides of the city, began a battle. Although the southern and western people fought well and proved their true warrior heritage, they lost the battle and were banished and left to perish under the unforgiving conditions of the Wasteland until their traits to tolerate heat and endurance saved them along with that they came in contact with the Metal Head leader, Kor and his armies of Metal Heads.

Abandoned too, years ago, as the Metal Heads were carnivorous and unpredictable creatures, and constantly attacked the humans when it came to times when a human threatened their territory, their offspring, for sadistic pleasure, or when the Metal Heads' hunger became quite ravenous. Not only that, the humans of Haven grew very suspicious of Kor as he was the only Metal Head that could use the guise of a human being, and other reasons as well. Not that I blame those low lives of Haven; Kor was and still is cunning and hot-tempered. Still, understanding both of their plights, the two different species formed an alliance in order to attain revenge at those that dared to banish them to their demise, sympathy for one another and Kor saw firsthand, the true and potent powers of the Wastelanders and saw that they could come in use one day. From that day forward, the people of this desert had split and scattered across the Wasteland, forming their own tribes yet all ruled under one ruler and one main city, Kor and the City of Spargus and all vowed to wreak havoc and seek just retribution for their ancestors' exile, and for the Havenites' arrogance and this war seems to prove it. Though they did not initiate it and neither did Haven City, both made assaults at one another, the same day, both fighting for various goals. Haven City strives to be rid of the 'vile savages' they acknowledged the Wastelanders or to use violent force to modify them to their religion or culture. While as the people of the Wasteland does not believe in battling in the name of religion, but admitted to obtain the blood of their enemies for retaliation or for their own lust for brutal gratification by carnage. Though their goal is vain, all the immortals here can agree that the Wastelanders do deserve repayment.

I watch with heavy eyes and shake my head in disbelief that such quarrels had come to this. All that I can do is respond to the prayers of those that implore me to bequeath them abilities to conquer their foes. Sadly, the only ones that worship me are the people of the Wasteland, so I have no choice but adhere to the other side. I do not disclaim that I am a deity of war, but that does not represent my nature, as I ironically am not amused by wars, but I am the most dexterous immortal in combat of the pantheon of the Gods. The mortals of the desert see every reason to invocate to me. On the other side, the Precursors are tied to Haven City and their people's constant litanies, thus more rivers of blood begin to flow and more innocent souls continue to enter _La Esfera de Paz _(5), a lot more earlier then they intended. Us gods can do nothing as we all know that all wars come to an end and a greater truth is revealed, even though we wish for this tiresome power struggle to come to a conclusion, we cannot interfere, as any divine intervention ever took place, then there will be terrible consequences for us and the mortals below.

Finally, after taking a great deal of time contemplating about and glancing at the events of history of man and through my oval-shaped mirror or as the short-lived ones called it 'The Mirror of the Untold', my beloved companion Donnellah (6), my caven (crow/raven), flew from her usual perch from a branch of a tree that produced kola nuts, onto my shoulder. I cast a recognizing smile at her. She was truly a remarkable creature; different from any bird I am aware of or made. She possessed more wisdom and knowledge than any bird that ever flew across that world, was bestowed a special type of insight that even some of the eternal ones lacked, and the best feature I liked most about her was that she could decipher the thoughts in your mind and reply to them in her own way.

As I walked away, exiting the lovely garden, Donnellah softly nuzzled her beak against my neck. I giggled a little bit and managed to bring another smile upon my usually stoic features. To assure I was fine, I petted my bird friend a little and she produced a loud yet contented caw from her throat.

"Yes, I know Donnellah," I answered to her comment. I glanced at a sundial that we passed by. "Time is drawing near…soon this conflict will come to an end."

End of Prologue

Author's Notes:

(1)Meeka is actually the name Mika, but I chose to misspell it on purpose, since that what the creators of Jak and Daxter did. Mika is a female Japanese name for 'new moon,' or is Russian for 'God's Child'. Also, Meeka, will be the Goddess of War. Wisdom and Prophecy in my fanfic, and just guess who will be her favorite mortal.

(2)Laramay is another name I chose to misspell on purpose for the same reason. The real spelling and name is Laramae which is a female Latin name for 'Protection.' So, I decided with that in mind, Laramae will be a goddess of protection in my story.

(3)Maheeshah is another one, and it is the same as Mahisha. Mahisha was an evil buffalo demon in Hindu mythology that threatened to overthrow the Hindu gods and let evil rule the world, but the gods used their combined strengths and created a super being to fight Mahisha. So they made Durga, who was a very beautiful and a fierce warrior goddess with ten arms and rode on a tiger and rode towards Mahisha and he tried to charge her. But, Durga struck him with a lance, stabbed him with her trident and finished him off with an arrow and she saved the gods and the world. So, I decided to make Mahisha an evil deity in this fanfic.

(4)Aruna is Sanskrit for 'Of the dawn.' So hence, that the character, is the goddess of the dawn.

(5)_La Esfera de Paz_ is Spanish for 'The Domain of Peace.' Now, in my story La Esfera de Paz is the place of the dead, although this may puzzle many of you, but to the people of the Wasteland, they believe that when you die and you did good deeds or were at least decent, this place of death is to be void of suffering, sickness, etc., but a place or a _domain_ of happiness, tranquility and _peace_.

(6)Donnellah is the actual name, Donella, which is Irish or Gaelic for 'dark-haired elfin girl' or 'Raven.' The reasons I made a crow or a raven a companion for a goddess, because: 1. The head god of Norse mythology, Odin, was a god of war and knowledge. He also had only one eye – which he lost the other in return for absolute knowledge and understanding of all things, and he had two crows that sat on his shoulders and helped him with everything, so I'm guessing that the crow represents as a symbol of wisdom. So, I somewhat copied the idea of a crow perched on the shoulder of a deity. 2. Despite the negative connotations crows and ravens have been associated with, (thanks to stupid horror flicks, a certain horror poem, and Halloween advertisement), the crow is the symbol of law in Native-American culture, and the raven has a special place in Native-American culture, as it is the symbol of magic. However, I was also corrected that the Raven was also known as a trickster (for the most part). So I apologize for this wrong information and the delay in revising this chapter.

Also, I apologize if I have the wrong information, but I did check a dozen sites and that is what the sites told me and also the information of the Norse and Hindu mythology I already knew, and learned a few extra details from a book. For the Native-American info, I knew a little bit as I am mixed with a little bit of Native-American, also learned from a book on the symbolism and representations of animals in Indian culture, and also I was corrected by a reviewer about the information on the raven. Also, if anyone is wondering when I will update, don't worry I'll update soon.


	2. Chp 1: Two Families

Yes, I'm back and I decided to revise my whole story, since apparently, a lot of people been reading it, but three reviewed. So, I thank John-Paul, Zozo the White, and Mermaid Ninja for their reviews yet I apologize to them and everyone who was enjoying this fic and find it mostly changed. Also _Las Canciones Escarlatas _means in Spanish 'The Scarlet Songs.'

Disclaimer: I do not nor never will own any of the characters or property from the Jak and Daxter series. They belong under the copyrights of Naughty Dog. Any OOCs in this story belong to me. If I did own the Jak series, I would be living it up in a nice penthouse in New York City or Miami complete with my harem of hot men.

Warnings: I'll repeat again: this story contains some rendered yet the same dialogue from the games, strong language, excessive gore and violence, somewhat religious and racial conflict, magic, deities, or polytheism, slavery, drama, mpreg, strong sexual content, mainly yaoi, yuri, or some het, slight implied rape, thankfully, comic relief. If any of this material offends you or doesn't strike your fancy, then don't read, that simple. Flames will be ignored, as I gave you the warnings, but you still continue to read it. But I do not mind at all critical feedback.

Summary: (Note the slight changes): Jak and Daxter are brothers and the sons of a deceased king, who are now under the care of their uncle, King Samos and reside with him and his daughter, Keira in the Kingdom of Haven City as the rulers. A gruesome war rages between Haven City and the people of the various tribes and cities of the Wasteland under the rule of the cold, vicious Kor, also the leader of the Metal Heads, King of Spargus City and father of the feared Spargan royal trio, Erol, Ashelin and Torn. As this vicious power struggle continues and the bloodshed scatters all over, the mistake of being at the wrong place, at the wrong time is made, as the royal teenagers of Haven travel and suffer the consequences of that one mistake, but learn along the way…

Special Thanks: I like to give all my gratitude and feel indebted to Nirvana Renegade Seiga, for her never-ending patience, advice, support and kindness, who has always encouraged me along the way. This goes out to you Nirvana!

Now with that, read on, and please read and review!

Chapter One: Two Families

"No! Please! Spare me!" a poor man desperately shrieked his plea to the merciless raider above him. The tall barbarian's piercing pale blue eyes burned the frightened male's very soul with no mercy whatsoever. Alas, it was all in vain and it no strung no pity within the other's soul.

The fingers increased their harsh grip of the other's brown hair as a sound of a blade coming in contact with flesh was heard. Crimson blood showered the evergreen grass and the fallen body descended upon it with a hard thud, taking it as his deathbed.

The murderer placed his prized crescent dagger back into its sheath in a satiated manner. The man that he slain not a long time ago was the last one of the deposed traveling caravan, and with that, the savage was done. The live male sauntered off, paying no mind to the corpse behind him. The man continued to amble past his fellow Wastelanders, who were now occupied putting pile of carcasses aflame or rallying their captives onto an Air Train. Finally, he reached a particular party of two who were now inspecting the effects that brought by the lower and higher ranked male and female soldiers of Spargan army.

The two occupied in the examination of a particular chest were a man and woman, the eldest of the feared 'Kor's trio', Erol and Ashelin. Erol, the eldest child of the royal children of Spargus, was a man of madness and cruelty. Spiky flaming orange hair framed his handsome and swarthy face as a halo of demonic flames. Pale blue tattoos decorated his countenance identified him as an adept warrior, but also a _Wastelander _warrior, and made him appear more frightening. Amber-brown eyes that struck unimaginable horror within his victims, observed the illuminating and compacted Precursor orbs of the chest.

Ashelin, on the other hand, was the only female in the hellish three. Despite that known fact, she could well handle her own and verify that she was just as threatening and dreaded as her brothers. Though she did posses such a horrifying reputation, and perceived by those who did not confront her, as ugly and masculine, but on the contrary, Ashelin was quite of a dark beauty that clearly distinguished her as an authentic Wastelander woman. Locks redder than each counted souls of the desert people put together were twisted in multiple rows of dreadlocks. Her palely bronzed skin radiated with health and brilliance. One hand was settled on the generous hips of her magnificently curvy body. Her bored forest-green eyes quickly swept over the multiple piles of useless possessions of the travelers discarded in front of her.

When the male came closer to the two, they acknowledged his presence as they turned to face him. Kor's eldest, Erol, inquired, "What do you have to report, Torn?"

Torn, Kor's youngest and final of his demonic offspring, and Ashelin's twin brother, pulled down his scarf that concealed half of his ruggedly handsome countenance. His reddish-brown hair were slicked and twisted in the same hairstyle as his sister, except there were a few twines of rope in a couple of the dreads. Torn replied, "Nothing much, the leader refused to tell me where they were heading and what was in the cargo, so he was useless and I decided to do him a _favor_."

Erol's orbs flickered onto his sister expectantly. "And you?"

Ashelin shrugged her shoulders. "So far as supplies or goods go, there's nothing, but useless Precursor religion crap. However, my men and women were able to find secret stashes of eco in one of the Air Trains."

Torn, being the cold and calculating one of the three, rubbed his chin in thought. "And from what I remember they were heading east towards Haven Forest…so that means…"

"Haven City is running low on eco power for the walls." Ashelin completed her brother's sentence. "So the Metal Heads at the Strip Mine _are_ doing their job,"

"Which means if we wait a little longer, the city walls will collapse, and Haven City's vulnerable to any upfront assault." Erol interjected, a mischievous glint flickered in his eyes. He turned to his younger siblings, "'Round up everyone, we're going. Tell them load everything and only bring captives that will be useful to us, any useless ones, you know what to do. We're finished on this wretched island (1)."

Ashelin inclined her head to her brother and ambled off to inform he soldiers to cease in their current activities and gather their valuables and made their way to their waiting Leaper Lizards.

Torn was about to mount the saddle of his Lizard, when two other Wastelander approached him with a strangely calm yet silently fuming Precursor monk. Large pools of crimson sent angry daggers at the Spargan royal. The monastic appeared to be female, however, an androgynous female at that. He glanced at the monk with little interest and devoid of intimidation. He then tossed a look of hostility towards his men. "_¿Qué chingados quieren _(2)?"

The two burly warriors hesitated for a moment to respond as they detected the murderous gleam in Kor's youngest child's pale blue orbs. One finally spoke up, the fear apparent in his deep voice, "We found this Precursor monk riding on one of the Flut-Fluts in the back of the caravan."

"And?" Torn's raspy voice pressed on; the hostile tone displayed the simmering agitation. After all, they spent _four_ tedious months of the same old missions: go from one pathetic village to another, slaughtering anybody or anything worthless and capturing and taking others who prove interesting or adequate to them. Any Wastelander could comprehend Torn's testiness; he was after all a man of the desert. One who relished in the rays of the unmerciful sun of the arid region and treasured the vast and endless areas of golden sand, not one who craved the green lush territories of Geili (3) Isle.

It was the second burly Spargan male's turn to speak. "Well, we wondering…if we should kill…her, him…"

Torn gave out a breath of exasperation at the duo's incapability to think their decisions, as he waved his hand in a dismissing manner. "Do whatever the hell you want, another _gele _(4) _muerte o vivo_, dead or alive, is no skin off my bones." At last, the superior male mounted the saddle and looked down at the warriors. "Now go. I want to get off this fuckin' rock just as much as you do."

The two bulky males nodded at their commanding officer's order. However, before they could swagger off with their captive, the monk threw an expression of hatred and anger. "You shall burn eternally in _Lym _(5) for this, you _wardeso_ (6) _beast_!"

The curse did not bring down Torn's spirits, but he still scowled at the feisty monk as she was quickly dragged away, but did not bother to retort to the insult. He only continued to wait for the call and finally be done with the North Island.

After that, once all the Spargan fighters were upon their saddles they began to move off, leaving the blazing piles of carcasses of the travelers for all the Geilimen and women to witness and apprehend the implied and gory message: The might of the Wastelanders is not to be taken as lightly and all beware, for wherever the desert people entered, death accompanied them as their constant greedy companion.

------------------

Cerulean blue eyes gazed up at the great Air Train before them, gleaming with eagerness and reflection. Golden locks tinted with green danced slightly in the soft wind. Glowing fair skin gleamed under the dull rays of the sun. Long fingers stroked the small green goatee in deep thought. The owner of the piercing orbs instantly comprehended that this was the beginning of a new adventure, a fresh experience. This was going to be his first time out of the solace of the Haven palace or as a matter of fact, outside the city's protective walls. The very cogitation daunt him a little, but he pacified his tingling apprehension with the thought that he was young man of seventeen years that was able to protect himself, his younger brother, Daxter and their younger cousin, Keira.

"_JAAAAKKKK_!" Jak's elongated ears flattened back and one of his great blues twitched a bit at his sibling's screeching beckoning voice. Well, maybe he should take back that previous thought.

Loud noises of clattering alcohol were approaching from behind Jak, so the eldest nephew of King Samos turned in order to be confronted with a sight that just wanted to make him shake his head. He saw his brother's Ottsel form approaching him with excited steps with a matching grin and lugging behind a huge bag of alcohol.

"You gotta be kidding me," Jak said in scolding awe. "There is no way you're planning on drinking after what happened last time."

"Awww! Come on Jak!" Daxter whined, as he forsaken his precious cargo of booze and climbed onto Jak's shoulder. "What happened hasn't changed a thing! I mean, I still have my charming good looks and enough charisma to bring down a rhinpant (rhino/elephant). Well, actually I miss being 4'11 and having pants. But—it taught _me_ to _never_ trust you again!"

Jak only revolved his beautiful eyes at the accusation. "It's not my fault you decided to get drunk before we went to the Strip Mine and decided to take a _dip _in the pool of Dark Eco."

"Yeah, but you're the one who took us there in the first place!" Daxter once again reversed the blame back onto his older brother.

"It does not matter whose fault it was," a new voice, which belonged to the Sage King of Haven City, Samos who was now approaching the two brothers with his sixteen year old daughter Keira, and their personal bodyguard, Sig.

The Princess of Haven City, Keira was not a towering young woman, nor very authorial in appearance. Instead, here stood a pleasant-looking and gentle maiden with neck-length tresses green as the land of their isle with huge matching eyes and a petite curvy body that busted out of her working clothes. Her fair skin of her Havenite genealogy glowed radiantly due to good health and the rays of the beaming sun. She stood at least a couple inches taller than her sire, yet she kept to his side in the manner of a respectful young lady.

Sigfried (preferably known as Sig), had features that clearly were not of any heritage of the North Land nor pallid in skin as the people he protected. Deep, smooth complexion of mocha was sheen with slight perspiration contrasted completely with the pale pigmentations of the other elves. He was a great giant, he towered greatly over his king and his relatives, yet his large spectacle eye darting around to assure that the area was safe. His thick lips protruding from his face in a suspicious frown as he continued to do so. One could not blame him for his protectiveness and doubt of immunity. Although, they were at the port in South Town, more dangerous times were brewing, especially since the Wastelanders possessed the audacity to trespass onto their land and accomplished their goals in decimated most of the villages and towns close to the City.

"All it matters that you two still disobeyed me." Samos pointed out, his tall stick moving in an accusing manner at Jak and Daxter. Once finished, the Sage King placed his stick by his side.

Keira then decided to add her say in the conversation. "Well, it's in the past now, and now you know not to play around again. _Right_ _Daxter_?"

Daxter felt great indignation, especially at the emphasis on his name. "What! Keira! I'm hurt! How could you accuse me of not being serious and causing trouble?"

"Well, that because that _is_ what you do, cherrie." Sig pointed as he made his way to the Air Train to inform the driver of the machine to be prepared as they were ready to leave.

By this time, Daxter's furry orange cheeks were flushed with red, and he was about to reply or comment that is until Jak placed his hand over his brother's Ottsel mouth, at last shutting him up.

"Thank you, my boy, now finally, I will give you three words to heed." Samos said, and with a motion of his hand, indicated to the three cousins to slowly walk to the Air Train.

"As you know," Samos began his speech of advice, "this is going to be your first time outside the palace, and more importantly, outside the great walls of Haven. But you must understand children, though the route to your cousin Vin's city, Xyon City is known for its being safe and hidden, you must be wary and alert…"

Samos halted in his colloquy to solemnly at his daughter and nephews. Their eyes were locked onto him, and were listening intently to his every word. Samos proceeded. "These are very hazardous times as this war rages on, and the Wastelanders are growing more bolder and bloodthirsty every day, as they further are making their way up north and closer to Haven. Not only that, but I ask you to also know and do not let your memory dwindle for a moment of your status, as the Wastelanders know of your existence and will see to it to use it to their advantage—"

Keira's huge expressive green ones that were fastened onto her father now spoke of worry and fear, but Samos assured her. "Let the Precursors forbid that if you ever are in the grasp of those savages, but fortunately, thanks to your isolation to the palace and the City for years, they do not know what each of you look like. However—" the Sage King held one finger up—"precautions still have to be made, thus why you must be incognito…"

"And take a crappy Air Train instead of a nice and comfortable Carriage Zoomer." Daxter interjected as he climbed onto the plane that lead to the interior of the conveyance and situated himself next to an already sitting Sig.

Samos made a breath of frustration at his younger nephew's inability to grasp understanding of these dire moments. "_Daxter_, we cannot afford any risks, it's either that or…"

"Or learn firsthand the scalping method the Wastelanders use on their victims. _Especially_ those with a lot of hair." Sig completed his king's sentence and took his place next to the younger nephew who now had blood drained from his face at the very thought of having a knife uncomfortably and hazardously close to his fur.

"Ummm…on second thought I prefer to be uncomfortably squished in a stuffy crappy Air Train than have my fur and skin underneath shaved off."

A smirk of triumph was quickly pasted on Sig's face, while as Jak and Keira rolled their different hued eyes and Samos shook his head. Suddenly, sounds of life began erupting from the Air Train, signaling the passengers and other that it was preparing to lift off.

It was when Samos gave his daughter a peck on the cheek and reminded her to always act like a proper young lady. He granted Jak a hug and recounted to his nephew to take extra care of his cousin and (especially) his younger brother and whacked Daxter on the head and rebuked him for having the nerve for sneaking alcohol onto the vehicle and took away the wine spirits from his protesting Ottsel nephew. He bid goodbye to Sig and told him that the safety of the Havenite royal family was in his hands now.

Finally, he offered more words of advice before the departing of his relatives. "Now remember, you three behave yourselves once you get to Xyon as you represent the Haven throne. And—remember—be prepared for whatever happens, think before you act and if you are ever in dire crisis or in a state or uncertainness—quiet your mind, and find yourself."

And with that as the words were locked into the young minds, and the Sage King of Haven City stepped off the Air Train, the doors were shut, leaving its passengers in partial darkness. The conveyance jerked forward, pushing the royal children of Haven and their bodyguard against the wall. At long last they were airborne, and probably flying over the towering walls of the metropolis and were off, making their way south and towards the unspeakable and possible dangers that mingled and hid themselves in the path.

End of Chapter One

Author's Notes :

(1)Okay, for those who don't remember from the previous chapter one or from my original story, I explained that on one of missions in Jak 3 that I had to complete in the desert, I glanced at the map of the Wasteland, and realize the land looked very much like an island. Plus in the introduction, they showed Ashelin, Jak, Veger, etc. taking the Air Train to travel to the Wasteland. So I thought what if Haven City and other places could be on other islands, but hey I could be wrong. But it doesn't matter, it makes the story a little more interesting for me.

(2)Okay, this question means in Spanish, "What the fuck you want?". I might be wrong on how saying this, but I do remember that _Quíen/Qué chingados…_ does mean 'Who/What the fuck…' And yes, I'm making the Wastelanders speak Spanish, since I know and love the language.

(3) I know this gonna sound stupid, but I made this name up for the island of which Haven City and other various and made-up villages reside on. Believe it or not, this name was derived from the land of Galilee.

(4) The word 'gele' is another word I made up, yet in the story, it is a very offensive racial or derogatory term for a person of Jak's homeland and such. I'm sorry people, but you have to remember, since there is a conflict between two different cultures there will be insults, discussions, and bashings on nationality or ethnicity.

(5) Okay, this word was derived from the word 'Limbo', but the 'i' was changed to a 'y. But the word still has its meaning in the fanfic, which is a place of oblivion or a place of Christian theology believe where unbaptized people go after death. Hence, the Precursor monk was cursing Torn to—basically in their belief—hell.

(6) 'Wardeso' is another made-up word which a racial slur for a Wastelander.

Yeah, I know. How did this somewhat short passage take me weeks and weeks and even months to finish? Well, people because I was suffering from some _serious _writer's block, but hey I'm back. Anyway, I'm sorry that if you do not like the changes I made. But I felt as though they had to be done, because I thought I was going to get nowhere with the original fanfic, or might have taken me forever to move the story along and bring it to the main events and such. Also, I would like to apologize about if some of scenes or pieces of dialogue were cheesy, stupid or pointless, because I tried my best in making the story interesting and keep the characters from appearing OOC. But aside all that, please review people some that I may continue.


	3. Chp 2: Marching to Xyon

_Hola, amigos, La niña del Río está aquí. Gracias para sus apoyos y críticas_. Alright, alright, Spanish time is over, and for the people who are reading this, and have no clue, or at least didn't get much pass 'amigos', the sentence means, "Hello friends, River Child's here. Thank you for your support and reviews." Anyway, for all the support and reviews, I very much appreciate them, and they encourage me to further continue this fanfic.

Other than that, read on!

Chapter 2: Marching to Xyon

"I think we should attack Haven City's Power Station, so that way we're destroying its source of power and it help keeps the city's walls up, thus this makes Haven vulnerable. Once the walls are down, and we can lead an upfront assault, as I once said before." Erol described his strategy as he imbibed his goblet of tequila (1) inside the main tent where the commanders of the Spargan Army had temporarily rested in.

However, Ashelin did not consider the tactic favorably. She said, "No way, though those snot-nosed _geles_ of Haven maybe idiotic, they probably would expect that of us. I say we send more Metal Heads to the Strip Mine, and we continue with our current plan and just absorb the power."

"We can no longer continue with that plan." Kor began, a fuzzy and fading image of a grizzled, long-bearded yet authorial-appearing face with a Skull Gem crowned on top of his head. The Spargan King's appearance was born from the communicator that the hellish trinity and their cousins, who happened to be their fellow high-ranking officers sat around. "I already heard from some of the commanders of the Metal Head troops, that some were discovered and were destroyed. We cannot dispatch anymore of my creatures to their deaths."

"How about we dispatch some of our best stealth warriors to Haven City and kidnap those brats of Samos? And use them for ransom?" Erol questioned.

"That will not do," spoke Kor, "for only one of the Haven royal children is Samos' child, which happens to be Princess Keira. The other two, Prince Jak and Daxter are the offspring of the former King Damas that died years ago. Although, King Samos is attached to his nephews, the ransom tactic will prove unsuccessful, as they are kin, but neither are of his seed. Also, we have no idea on how they look like."

"Oh, I think I have a hunch…"Erol said, already conjuring a humorous image in his mind of the three royal children with repeating and stereotypical physical traits: burning orange hair, extremely pale epidermises, freckles scattered across their noses, expressions of arrogance and distaste scrunching up their faces and each wore outrageous and downright gaudy outfits. A couple of chuckles emerged from Kor's eldest, which directed the gazes of his relatives onto him, until they chose to leave Erol to his madness.

"Then…" Torn started, as a fresh war scheme was coming to life in his clever mind, "we'll send small troops of soldiers along with Metal Heads to the bridge isles of North Island, in order to prevent any exports from the other isles to Haven, potential help from those islands and prevent King Samos from making any attempts of making any alliances. Also, we'll send the Camouflage Metal Heads to Haven Forest to add more prevention from Haven making any contact with the other lands. Also, it will also prevent any of the Havenites from searching for artifacts that might be helpful in benefiting cause of wiping us out. Plus, we continue on attacking any villages and temples, so that with the high numbers of demolished villages and temples, King Samos will have to consider before creating any more counterattacks, or else more of his allies or quite possibly, a part of his City will be destroyed. And as if he did not understand seriousness in our message before, he will know now that we have every intention on seeing the fall of Haven City's growing empire and see its people fall along with it. "

A moment of silence transpired for a while, as the occupants of the tent soaked in and reflected on Torn's stratagem, and letting each step play through their minds. At last, the stillness ended as Kor mouthed in a tone that spoke of fatherly pride and amazement: "Brilliant, absolutely brilliant. As usual Torn, you have, once again, sustained your given title, _Lobo Astucio _(2). For your intelligence and military shrewdness, at this moment, I propose a toast in your honor and give praise to beloved Meeka, _Nuestra diosa de guerra, sabiduría, y profecía _(3). "

At soon as Kor mouthed the words of respect to his youngest son, various cups filled to the brim of tequila were raised in the air. Murmurs of the different voices of Torn's siblings and other relatives were made and formed into "_En nombre de Meeka y Torn,_ _damos honoría y gracias_ (4)." With that, they drank to their absent deity and Torn who at the present time, was wearing a complacent look on his face that increased as he took note of the tint of envy that flashed through Erol's flaming sun eyes.

Finally, Kor announced that he had to depart for he had an important engagement he needed to depart for and without bidding any of his kin goodbyes, the communicating mechanism quickly shut off.

Kaylenn (5), the hellish trio's second eldest cousin, or more infamously known as among his people, _El Demonio de la Sombra,_ 'The Shadow Demon', was the first to initiate an inquiry. His dreadlocked mid-back length hair was just as black as that part of his given title and was just as high in height and lean in body as much as Torn. Though his handsome face bore similar yet black tribal marks on his fine-looking coffee-hued face as his cousins, but that was the only trait that others could lay claim to in similarities of the kin of the Spargan royal family. His piercing eyes of deep crimson struck tremendous fear in the hearts of those he encountered; now they gleamed with amusement. "So cousin, if I may dare to as, although your grand design is flawless, who arethe poor souls that had stay on these fuckin' isles and keep vigilant watch, in order to keep this scheme intact while I get to go home?" He emphasized on the last couple of words that failed in order to conceal the relish in his voice and a smirk revealing his pearly white and sharp teeth, as thoughts of home and the desert played through his mind.

But Torn did not let that look of satisfaction go unnoticed. Though it was very entertaining to dash away his cousin's hopes, he maintained his face's composure, and refrained from letting his lips curl in a malicious smirk. Torn announced, "You, your sisters, and your men and women are the poor souls that had to stay on the fuckin' isles."

Shock flashed through all of Kor's children's relatives' countenances before they were quickly displaced by fury.

But before his cousins could react to the very demanding order, Torn gazed up at his furious cousins with his stabbing blue eyes, except now a different emotion intensely burned within them. At this moment, they were cold flames of blue that glowed with a threat of a deadly fate, each unique yet nastier than the previous destiny promised to each cousin if they did not watch or remember who they were dealing with.

Immediately, each cousin was rendered silent. Their expressions of ire dissipated, and they kept still as though Torn's eyes had the ability to freeze people.

Torn stayed in his sitting position but kept his steady look onto his relatives. He spoke in a deadly soft voice that alerted them of their lower status and not to question any orders of their higher-ranked officers, especially their cousins. "I'm not asking you to build a fucking house on these islands and live on them, but I want you all to go to the Isle of Helix and just stayed there for at least two days. From what I remember from General _Batalla's_ (6) reports, a lot of the Havenite middle-class and noble families travel there. So once you're there, and if you so happen to 'meet'one of the well-to-do families, you three immediately report back to the Wasteland and you get to return to your slaves' beds. "

"And what's the point of kidnapping some Havenite noble family?" Kayelnn growled out a question and his crimson pools still held a quarter of ire in them.

Exasperation and annoyance was clear in Tonr's raspy voice as he replied, "Because, I checked the statistics of the noble families in Haven, ninety-eight percent of the fathers of those families are generals or commanders of the Havenite Army. The rest are scientists working in the Power Station. You see where I'm going with this or do I need wave flags and draw out nice little pretty pictures so that you can understand?"

Kaylenn, and his sisters, Chandee and Aza (7) quickly scowled at Torn's remark, but otherwise to did not make one retort of sarcasm or anger. But Aza, Kaylenn's youngest sister, a young woman of the livelihood of twenty-one and serpentine blonde hair, olive skin and stunning coffee-colored eyes, asked, suspecting what the answer might be: "No, you don't King of Laryngitis. We get it. And what do we have to do if we don't happen to be 'graced' with one of presence of the nobles?"

"Then keep your asses there for two days, like I said and you get to return to our beloved desert and between your slaves' legs."

Chandee, Kaylenn's younger sister sighed as her decision was unpleasantly stirring within her mind. The mocha-colored young woman of twenty-four, bestowed with sable straight waist-length locks and matching eyes, along with rivaling beauty against Ashelin's, bit her tongue to refrain from vocalizing her disapproval, she spoke on behalf of her siblings as she finally declared: "Fine. We'll do it. But one question: what's the big deal about Helix that draws the rich _Havi _(8) families there?"

"Because that's where the cosmopolitan city, Xyon City resides, you _puta de mierda_ (9)."

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Jak was strolling along a path. Not actually a path, but because of trees stood tall and proud on both of his sides and not a single dared to rise in his way, that it was assumed to be a path. The trees, however, were nothing he had seen before. Their bark and branches twist as a Weeping Willow would, except it lacked the drooping teardrop leaves that would distinguish it as such a tree. The leaves resembled more of the exotic leaves of the palm trees that merchants managed to chop down and bring from the Wasteland to sell to the wealthy class of Haven City as household plants.

As Jak kept on going to wherever he seems satisfied to stop, his large bare feet crushed crisp blades of bright green grass. He surveyed his environment, seeing unfamiliar and exotic flowers displaying their strange beauty at the feet of trees, in bushes, or everywhere else. Multi-colored birds ranging from different species fluttered across, down or up the path. The other creatures were just flashes of color among the green and beyond the trees as they did not make any attempt step from the darkness. Their calls and shouts pierced the air. All were oblivious to a foreign creature that was walking through their territory.

This was obviously land where man is not permitted to enter, or for that matter, did not exist in this realm. It was too ethereal or pure to let man's touch defile it. From what Jak gathered from what was laid before him, this was a sacred place. As soon the fact was processed into his head, the Prince of Haven glanced back to see his feet left any besmirching marks upon the ground beneath. Luckily, as though in defiance, the grass remained green and untainted.

Finally, Jak made into a new area where the trees made a clearing which created a large circle that contained inside a massive lake that took its place on Jak's left, its surface glistening and mimicking that surface of a mirror. On his right, was a burning bonfire with embers flickering and the smoke was dancing in the air. Jak's nostrils wiggled unpleasantly as he smelled a scent that was strong, strange and pungent that pervaded the air. Yet under it, there was a faint smell of fruits mingling with the other harsh smell.

This is a foul and fair place, Jak said to himself. There was something disturbing about this area yet cheerfulness resided here as well. Jak looked around, and quickly color was drained from his face as he witnessed many different-shaped skulls swinging slightly and that hung on the branches of the trees. Incomprehensive symbols produced from blood were marked upon the bark of the trees. Cavens (crows/ravens) were circling above and their caws and flapping black wings panged Jak's heart with tiny apprehension. The only comfort that the Prince of Haven had was that amongst these frightening things, he saw, with some relief, colorful butterflies and dragonflies flittering across and about and hummingbirds zipping here and there.

When Jak finished examining each detail—each from frightening to uplifting—he turned to find two young women sitting around the fire.

'Where did they come from?' the blond elf asked in his mind. He did not see them here before. Did they just defy reality and appear from nowhere? Or were they there the whole time, and his eyes did not take notice of their presence?

The two young (they struck Jak as being around his age, but he did sense something of an ancient aura surrounding them and he really doubted they were young adults) females did not pay the prince any regard at the time. They held some resemblances to one another, so it was easily assumed that they were sisters. At the moment, one sister, who Jak quickly identified her as the 'foul sister', was throwing leaves into fire, which caused the flames to burn more.

Foul she was, yet she was lovely. It was that the atmosphere around her was death, unhappiness and other things negative, thus deemed her as foul but not evil. She possessed skin of the Wastelanders or possibly the brown-skinned indigenous tribes of the Playns that resided in the northeastern part of North Island. Her long and untamed light pink tresses were pulled back from her forehead a crown of black and silver laid atop her head. A red pendant hung on her forehead from the crown. A sharp black teardrop tattoo made its place from upon the skin under her sharp burning yellow eyes. Other tribal black markings decorated her shoulders and hips as a nose ring pinched her pointy nose and was connected to her earring. She was also decked out in more silver jewelry on her arms. Alongside with her clinging and revealing black dress, her whole look was basically oozing ferocity, solemnity and intimidation.

Her other sister, who was labeled the 'fair sister' was busying herself with playing with the lilies in her hands. Fair was the atmosphere around her as well as her looks too. Her skin was the color of fresh snow, skin complexion of the people hailing from the Uplands, a region far northwest of Haven City or Haven Forest. Her garb was not as lewd as her siblings', on the contrary, it was a modest white dress with unbelievably long sleeves that clung to her form well with one long slit that revealed well-formed legs and tattooed calves. Her luscious and lively hair cascaded down to waist and duplicated the same color as her complexion. When she laid her eyes upon Jak, he discovered them to be big pools of pale blue.

The fair one smiled—a smile that may have been amiable, but sent spiders down Jak's spine—and opened both hands in a summoning motion.

Though his mind screamed to keep his distance from the two, his body protested. Jak soon found himself sauntering over to the sisters.

"Look about sister! The House of Samos wishes to join us!" The albino elf said to her darker sister. Her voice sounded as though it should emerge from the throat of a young girl than an adult woman.

When Jak was finally sitting amongst the two, the foul one observed Jak dispassionately and said in an articulation of a croaking old woman: "Know me as Cassandra, Prince of Haven. And I bid thee farewell."

"I am known as Anyelah. But we bid thee welcome." the fair sister interjected and she placed in Jak's hand a small pearl.

"Ummm…what?" Jak was utterly confused by their talk and looked down at the small gem in his hand.

"Mark me child. When I give thee strange intelligence of foulness, my sister will tell you news of profound good," Cassandra advised, as she then pulled out a long necklace that was made of a rope and many teeth were strung onto it.

"And I will give thee news of joy yet my sister will speak of horrid things." Anyelah completed the rest of the sentence.

"Wait, you mean one of you will prophesize good things while the other tells me the consequences and vice versa?" Jak's green eyebrows creased. Their whole speech was causing his brain to throb.

"Th'art intelligent." Anyelah said as she placed one white lily next to him. He took a cautionary look at the plant before he placed it in one of his pockets as well as the small pearl.

"Though thou know nothing of the cruel earth and her dirty ways…"Cassandra refused to be hesitant in recognizing Jak's faults.

"But thou knows what passes around him." Anyelah reassuringly proclaimed.

A clap of thunder loudly cackled and reverberated throughout the mystical forest. The three young people gazed up. A burning bright bluish-white streak speared through the gray clouds. The branches and the hanging skulls rattled and clanged under the rumbling vibrations produced from the thunder. As Jak's blue orbs watched dreary gray sky be illuminated by lightning, he noticed a small speck within the mix of gray, blue and white. Slowly, a small dot begin to be conceived and then it grew to a speck, until Jak knew it was a bird that was making its way to the land below his wings.

When the creature came closer, realization dawned on Jak that it was a hawk. As the bird of prey hovered down upon the shoulder of Cassandra, the Prince of Haven noticed in astonishment of its pure white feathers and jet-black beak. The predatory creature turned its glowing head towards the blond elf and its great and conceivably perceptive violet eyes blinked intently at Jak for a while. Then it returned its piercing gaze back onto deadly Cassandra.

A shrill shout emerged from its throat as in a warning or alarm. Then two small things dropped from the hawk's feather and onto Cassandra's lap.

The darker sister plucked the two from her lap and placed them Jak's hand. When her brown fingers brushed against Jak's skin, tiny ants of coldness climbed their way up his arm and his body shivered slightly. Alarm and puzzlement was seen in his eyes as they looked at the things, which turned out to be two pieces of teeth in that hand. Without any hesitation, he placed the two in his pocket.

"Death will take away the breath of one from your family and from your offices," Cassandra affirmed.

Whether the statement was designed to leave Jak flabbergasted and terrified, it was seen as effective as the cerulean eyes doubled their size and his mouth hung gaped. "_What_!"

"Yet your kin will remain untouched by its black wings." Anyelah finished her sister's devastating prophecy with the promise of beneficial results.

This entire encounter was commencing its developing dose of befuddlement, headaches for Jak and his heart was throbbing with fear for his loved ones, as these two continued in their assault of riddles. One minute, they are describing his characteristics, next foretelling death for those close to him but not entirely close to him. His legs were yearning to get up and walk away and his eyes desired to open themselves up to the real world again.

When Jak regained his ability to enunciate, he simply said in a voice that was strained from the disbelief the heeds Cassandra had bluntly unloaded carelessly upon him, "I have to go." With that he rose onto his feet.

Neither of the sisters' countenances had faltered and refused to make any protest. Instead, Anyelah, once again presented the Prince of Haven City a smile. However, the smile that she gave him perplexed him greatly. It was not a simper concealing hidden ire and threats…but what appeared to be a smile of…congratulations? It was then Jak felt something heavy in his hands.

Jak's only rebuttal was a slight dumbfounded expression. "What the hell is _this_?"

In his hands was a small and round tank filled to the brim with water and from beneath the depths, Jak could see two moving shapes which he immediately identified as fish.

Anyelah's smile did not fade. "We offer thee congratulations, Prince of Haven. Thou shalt get kings, queens and warriors that shall be the paragons of gods."

However, Cassandra's grave features also did not acquiesced to be removed. "Though thou shall not be the sire of your house."

Jak's mind instantaneously wandered away from the previous thought of departing from this completely unreal place for a while, and he inquired, "Wait, are you saying my children will rule Haven? But that's impossible. Keira's next in line and only her children or anyone from her line can rule."

The two ethereal siblings did not give any reply to the question. Cassandra said, "You will bring forth children of different houses.

"Yet they shall bear the might of a new house born." said Anyelah.

At last, realization settled into Jak's mind about his previously made statement of leaving. Not bothering to spare either of the two women a goodbye he impulsively left with a tank in his hands, teeth and a pearl in one pocket, and a flower in the other.

Jak began walking in a hurried pace, eager to be away from the unnerving female duo and their perplexing, terrifying yet enchanting sanctuary. Once he was certain that he was of a lengthy distance away from the unsettling place, Jak turned and watched. The two young women were gone, their bonfire put out, and the lake ever so shimmering and still imitating a mirror dwelling within green.

The Prince of Haven shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant motion, before he set eyes forward and found himself face-to-face with a wolf.

The color of the creature's fur was an odd shade of reddish-brown instead of the common gray, white or even jet-black. Strange and intricate pale blue markings adorned its odd-colored fur. Its own cerulean eyes demonstrated to Jak his own emotionless reflection staring back at him. Even though he appeared to be a master in the epitome of bravery, shock and apprehension pinned Jak to the spot. More so, it was not that he regarded the beast with fear; it was the immense surprise that quickly stole his will to battle it.

Hostile suspicion, amusement, and intrigue were represented in the wolf's too-cunning orbs. They struck to be beyond the eyes of an animal, and more of those of a human. It was not until a couple of moments later, a low-rumbling growl erupted from the wolf's red throat and finally it let out a harsh bark. The sudden sound immediately brought consciousness to Jak's senses. Unfortunately, Jak was not swift enough remove himself out of the way when the creature's claws came to slash at his leg. The blond elf hissed in pain as he attempted to back away from the red wolf that was now approaching him.

However, the wolf was no longer making threatening sounds at Jak. Its blue orbs were eyeing the small tank of fish in his hands. A speck of surprising affection and determination flashed through the cold eyes as it they watched the aquatic creatures. With reflexes swift, the wolf suddenly jumped onto Jak. The sudden weight upon forced Jak to land on the ground with a thud and the tank to land safely somewhere. Before Jak was about to fight the beast off, immediate hoots caused him to look up.

Two fawls (falcons/owls) were hovering above the wolf and him. Murderous intent glowed in their yellow eyes as they flew lower, their beaks poised to attack.

Another vicious growl escaped the wolf's throat, baring its white fangs in a defensive action. Its fur stood upright and barked before it was off, scampering towards to its nearing foes.

Jak's vision began to become unfocused. He made an endeavor to blink the already blurriness back into clearness, but still the wolf's red shade and the fawls' tawny tints were growing into uncertain splashes of color among the increasing darkness. The common sounds of the sacred grove were beginning to fade. The only noises that resounded in his elongated ears were the sounds of teeth meeting flesh, the fawls' cries and the wolf's yelps of pain, and the wolf's ferocious snarls and barks. However they were quickly disappearing.

The sounds were completely gone, and the surroundings were replaced by total blackness…

"Jak…"

There were washes of various shades across Jak's eyes, but then they were gone…

"Jak!" Keira's voice commanded and instantly brought him from the realm of dreams. "Wake up!"

The various colors once again flashed across his eyes. The darkness began to falter repeatedly, until slowly the colors took control. They then became undetermined shapes that quickly transformed into the peering faces of his cousin and his brother, Daxter. Jak blinked his blue eyes a couple times.

"Are you alright?" came the query from Keira that followed after her frantic order.

"Yeah. I'm fine." Jak simply answered, his voice tight and tired.

"You don't sound 'fine' chili pepper." Sig stated, his place still next to Jak. When Jak turned to peer at his face, he saw that his uncle's most trusted bodyguard's eyes held shadows of concern as they looked upon Samos' eldest nephew.

"Yeah! Plus you weren't soundin' too fine when you were sleepin'!" Daxter said. "You were hissin' and were shoutin' 'What!' and 'What the hell is this?' Sheesh! _What_ were you dreaming about?"

Jak's lips tightened and his body became stiff. "Nothing." Jak decided to change the topic and asked Sig, "Where are we?"

"From what I remembered a couple minutes ago, while you were sleeping, Cal," Sig indicated towards the driver, "said that it was already nighttime and we were flying above the Gale River, so it's gonna probably take us half a day tomorrow to finally get to Moonshade Woods and the Hellcat Cruiser."

Keira gave her dark-skinned protector a quizzical look. "Why do we have to take a Hellcat?"

"Because this Air Train can only travel certain number of miles before it actually breaks down. Plus, it's for extra precaution when we reach Moonshade Woods."

An incredulous expression was plastered on Daxter's face. "Wait! '_Extra precaution'_? This is Moonshade Woods we're talkin' about! How—"

Sig immediately interjected and respond, "I know the safest place in all the North Isles, but still we can't be too sure if Wastelanders might happen to be on the Isle of Helix."

"But, wouldn't the weather be too cold for them? Wastelanders can't stand the cold." said Jak.

"We can't always base facts on stereotypes. Plus, if the Wastelanders were able to blaze on north, givin' hell without breakin ' a sweat that shows that they can tolerate the cold when they got their minds set on bloodshed and revenge. Believe me chili peppers when I say this, which is not a stereotypical fact, but a fact of experience of being on the battlefield with Wastelanders: on a battlefield or anywhere else, if a Wastelander sees red, be it revenge, anger, bloodlust, or is just in a plain malicious mood, you rarely gonna see the extent of their mercy. Most likely, you're gonna see how they are the epitome of mercilessness."

Sig's cautionary and brief speech brought an awkward and reflective silence in the Air Train. Even Daxter, usually talkative and loud, was rendered mute and began toying with his Ottsel fingers. Keira held her necklace to her lips, silver and thin chain with the Havenite symbol of protection, an insignia of a lavender eye within a star, was whispering a silent prayer to it. Sig was soon occupied of cleaning his Peace Maker, which was caked in ancient blood of what the Haven children did not wish to inquire about.

Jak, on the other hand, had his mind still set on his dream, searched his pockets to find a pair of teeth, a small-white lily, and a pearl. He found the pockets to be empty and decided to take a gander at his leg to see if there were any slashes that only a wolf can only leave. Though he saw the nothing marred his leg, and his body was unscarred, Jak understood that the dream left its blows and marks in his mind.

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An furious puff of smoke penetrated the clean and fresh air of the forest. The small piece of the cigar, was once again placed between a pair of frowning lips. The fag flared orange as the fumes slowly danced their way from the cigar.

Although it was afternoon and the sky was painted with hues of different oranges and pinks, it did little to brighten the Wastelander's mood. He also was not the only one discontent, as his fellow Spargans wore dismal looks and their tempers were turning black and dangerous. They have been here half a day and still continue to stay another half a day today, already some had taken their fury out on the poor trees of Moonshade Woods by stabbing the bark and defiling it with the official mark of Spargus, or cutting them down to feel the void of lack of amusement. Some already began to pursue after the animals that dwelled in the woods. Even some of the Metal Heads were growing testy and hungry for blood as they actually dared to assault some of the Wastelanders, the very ones who could control them and did not fear them unlike their Northerner counterparts.

The owner of the cigar exhaled more smoke and let a breath of exasperation and impatience as he ran his finger through his slick and dread-locked dirty blond hair. He wiped some of the dirt off his pants as he continued to sit in the grass and leaning his head and back against a tree.

Small sounds of crushing grass were heard in the Wastelander's pointed ears. He did not need to turn to acknowledge who it was. As he remembered the foot sounds of his relatives, friends or some of the fellow Wastelander warriors he chose to acquaint with. It was none other than his younger cousin, Kaylenn who found no end in annoying his cousin, Jinx.

"What the fuck you want, Red Eyes?"

The darker-toned young man chose to let the insult slide and allowed a smirk—not a smile—of malice appear on his face. "Nothing cousin, just wanted to ask if you like it here, as I see you enjoying a good smoke."

Jink rolled his dark eyes and blew smoke in his cousin's face. "Yeah I do. I like nothin' more than sittin' on this fuckin' itchin' grass, and freezin' my ass off in some pitiful-ass forest. I wanna live here for my whole fuckin' life in a little pink house with a white picket fence."

Unfortunately for Jinx, his relative allowed the sarcasm to bounce off of him. Usually, even if Jinx even uttered one syllable of what Kaylenn thought to be an insult, the red-eyed elf would pounce on him. However, this time Kaylenn still had that pestering smirk on his face.

"Well that's too bad, because I thought you might want to hear about that the scouts told me they saw a Hellcat Cruiser with a lot of Krimzon Guards surrounding it heading this way."

The same unpleasant grin that displayed the same malice in his cousin's appeared on Jinx's features. Without hesitation, he was on his feet and following after his cousin to the where the Leapers were gathered. He carelessly flicked his cigar onto the grass, oblivious and not caring at all if the fag could instigate a fire. Hell, he would not even mind if burned the whole Isle of Helix down.

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The red-clad men of the Krimzon Guard exchanged nervous glances among each other as they ventured further into the mysterious and beautiful timbres of Moonshade Woods. The tall and strangely beautiful trees were pleasing to the eye, but not to their rapidly beating hearts. Even the driver of the Hellcat occasionally spared the enchanting surroundings cautionary and untrusting looks.

The hovering vehicle was proceeding slowly, thus Haven City's official protectors had to do so too. It might have been better to take the Air Train, but surely it would have been easier for any invader eye to spot it.

The forest was silent. Unnervingly silent, which was not good and caused the guards to tightened the grips of their guns and the beats of their hearts increased more, but they pressed forward. They could not fail their King and allow death to take the lives of Haven's royal children.

One of the guards believed he caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye, somewhere in the bushes he passed. He did not see the harm of stepping away from the group of his fellow Havenite legionnaires and walked over to the shrubbery.

The sentinel kneeled and searched beyond the green leaves of the bush. A gasp of surprise escaped his throat as he witnessed a pair of bloodthirsty raven eyes staring back at him.

After he let a warning cry to the other Krimzon Guards, a sharp dagger punctured his stomach.

Thankfully, the fallen guard's yelp did not pass through deaf ears. As soon the shout of excruciating pain echoed throughout the woods, the Hellcat quickly came to a halt. The Krimzon Guards immediately knew that that their presence on the Isle was not the only one. Apparently, the cry also signaled to Sig that danger was near and approaching as well. The Hellcat's doors were burst open and Sig and the three Haven royal children came into view.

The dark-skinned elf tossed Jak a double-barreled gun with one hand while the other held his Peace Maker. The wide and shocked cerulean eyes shifted onto Sig.

Sig answered as he snatched Daxter from the ground and placed him on Jak's shoulder and he shoved both the blond elf and Keira away from the vehicle. "You two. Go. _Now_."

However, Keira protested, "But what about—"

"Look, get your skinny asses away from here. Don't worry about me—"

A loud and bellowing war cry was heard in the distance. Undulating noises also were born in the distance yet grew louder within every second. The Krimzon Guards quickly arranged themselves in defensive positions and their guns prepared to blow off limbs or heads off of Wastelanders.

Sig pushed Keira and Jak with more force. "Look, I'm not gonna tell you again. Go. _NOW_!"

As the undulating sounds increased to its loudest volume and Sig made one final shove, Jak with Daxter desperately clutching onto his shoulder, and Keira by his side, ran to trees and scamper further into the mysterious bowels of Moonshade Woods.

They progressed in their running while sounds of blades colliding with flesh, guns going off, bullets missing targets, and worst of all, screams of pain and death resounded in the timberland.

"_AHHHHH_! _I WANT OFF THIS CRAZY ISLAND_!" Daxter shrieked as he added more pressure to Jak's shoulder.

Jak made a turn and stopped to press his back against a tree. His breath was reduced to short pants. His ears flattened back to hear if there were alerting sounds of one following them.

Speaking of them, Daxter's grip loosened very much since he screamed moments ago. The again, the grip was so light, it was almost as though Daxter was not on his shoulder…

'Oh no…' Jak thought with horrible realization and his eyes widened in shock. He stepped a couple of paces away from his hiding spot and looked around his surroundings and did not see his cousin anywhere. He took a quick glance at his shoulder and discovered no Ottsel was on it. Dread began to creep in his heart as the Cassandra's words made their haunting dance in his mind.

'_Death will take away the breath of one from your family_.'

But two of his family members were gone. What if, Jak pondered with growing apprehension, Cassandra, the dark and grim sister from his dream, was wrong? What if two of his kin perished already at the cold hands of the Wastelanders? The cruel thought of his cousin and brother bloodied and dead refused to leave Jak's subconscious alone. Images of Keira lying on the ground, her hair matching with the evergreen grass that was her eternal bed for eternal rest, and Daxter's fur heavily contrasting against the green hue of the ground beneath him and his blood pooling around him. The horrid cogitations constantly flashed through Jak's mind as the message continue to repeat.

'_Death will take away the breath of one from your family_.'

'_Death will take away the breath of one from your family_.'

The words were not merciful as they pursued in tormenting Jak's mind and heart. They pressed on in their torture so much, that Jak did not become aware of the snarling sound. When Jak regained his hearing sense, looked forward and saw a Metal Head, crouching in a pose that was signaling to Jak that it was ready to attack. Out of instincts, his index finger was poised at the trigger of the Morph Gun, ready to pull it. But before he could shoot, the vicious creature leapt upon him and caused the gun to be knocked out his hands.

Jak wriggled underneath the creature as he began to wildly fight it off, until he caught a glimpse of a claw coming towards him before he saw black.

---------------------

Jak struggled to keep his eyes open, but unfortunately, anytime he dared to sneak a peek, his mind began to be submerged in an unpleasant and spinning sensation. So his orbs closed and remained so. His face was burning with a terrible ache and both of his sides feeling as though they were slashed at, he felt also the ground scraping his back, which made him cognizant of the fact that someone was dragging him somewhere. However, since the blow to his head rendered him semiconscious, his limbs possessed no will to fight back or struggle.

Finally, whoever was hauling him along seemed to stop. His ears then noticed sounds in the background that kept on increasing volume, until it was certain that a group of people of talking and were making their way towards him. Though he could hear the unclear murmurs, his brain failed to interpret them.

"Found this little pretty thing deep in the woods. _Guerrero_ (10) was on top of him and was ready tear him a new ass and ear." said a deep masculine voice that held malicious amusement.

"Hmm…good. Well, I just bagged an Ottsel. A _talking _Ottsel. The gods must be playing with my mind." This time, a feminine voice spoke.

A snort of disbelief was heard. "Yeah right. And Yakows fly."

"Don't be too sure, brother. It might actually happen." The female's voice countered.

"Whatever. Did you find anything else, Aza?"

A new intonation that was also one of female was added to the conversation. "One of the Metal Heads of my pack attacked a young girl. Another Havenite…"

In a slow-moving pace, the multiple mumbles of speech were disappearing.

"Is she and the orange furball still alive?"

"Yes, unfortunately and fortunately…"

Finally, sleep slithered and claimed Jak into its arms. The only locutions that still resounded in the recesses of his mind were that emerged from the wise yet harsh tongue of Sig…

'_When a Wastelander sees red, be it revenge, anger, bloodlust or is just in a plain malicious mood, you rarely gonna see the extent of their mercy…_'

End of Chapter 2

Author's Notes:

(1) Okay, this may see a little unimportant, but every time I watch a movie set in ancient times, and it deals with an army finished with their conquests, they tend to drink wine to celebrate victory. So, I decided why not add this detail in the story when the Wastelanders win a battle at the end of the day, they drink a goblet or glass of tequila. Also, I greatly apologize to anyone who is offended by this little detail.

(2) 'Lobo Astucio' means in Spanish 'Cunning Wolf'. Come on, if you know Torn's personality, you understand why I would give him this specific tribal name. If not, please accept that I thought that the name sound kinda cool and fitting for him.

(3) This whole title means in Spanish 'Our Goddess of War, Wisdom and Prophecy.'

(4) The sentence means 'In the name of Torn and Meeka, we give honor and thanks.' Also, that small ceremony was inspired by the people of some ancient societies in which they would give tribute to their gods before an important battle or such to ensure victory. So, I reversed and add a slight change to this cultural fact, by making the Wastelanders do this after they earned a victory and also gave thanks or tribute to the warrior that displayed his best qualities (i.e. Torn)

(5) Okay, some of you may not remember or be familiar with my OOC or his name. Anyway, Kaylenn means in Celtic/Irish, 'warrior or mighty warrior.'

(6) Spanish for 'Battle'.

(7) Chandee is a variation of Chandi, an Indian/Hindi name that means 'fierce' and is one of the many names used for the Hindu Goddess, Devi. This name is said to be an angry name for her (I'm not too sure). Aza is a Swahili feminine name and means 'powerful.'

(8) 'Havi' is another word I made up. It is a derogatory term for a person of Haven City.

(9) Okay, this word is an insult and if it was totally translated, it would mean 'bitch of shit' or perhaps 'shitty bitch.' However, roughly translated, or to be put in, say…plainer terms, it means 'fucking bitch.'

(10) 'Guerrero' means in Spanish, 'Warrior.'

Okay, once again I apologize for taking so long in updating. Also, sorry if the chapter is a wee bit long and the scenes seem useless and pointless, trust me I have a reason for them . Read and review people so that I may continue. You all have been great. Thank you.


	4. Chp 3: Royalty Outside Their Own Kingdom

Hooray for me! I managed to make another chapter (trust me, it's hard for me to actually finish some tasks). Anyway, I thank everyone for taking time to reading my fanfic and reviewing. It warms my heart. Also, I'm sorry I didn't mention the meanings of the names of the two OOCs that appeared in Jak's dream. Cassandra is Greek and well, we all know about the infamous prophetess of doom. Anyelah, from what I remember from a site, is Italian and means 'heavenly or angelic messenger.' Also don't worry about their reason of purpose in the story, trust me they have a purpose. Just wait and see.

With that all said, continue to read.

Chapter Three: Royalty Outside Their Own Kingdom

Kaylenn tilted his head to the side to observe more of the blond Havenite's features. The two pools of blood red appreciatively took in the exotic golden and green locks, which were rare, even among Havenites. This gaze of appreciation sent by the darker male was rarely shot towards blond-haired people, as Kaylenn was not one who preferred light-haired men and women. Still, he continued to silently admire the unconscious young man and took note of the bruises flowering upon the chiseled countenance. However, the marks did nothing in marring the beauty of the young man.

As the Wastelander's eyes wandered to the man's body (licking his lips at the sight of the idea of a muscular yet lean chest, a small waist and slender form) lightly pondered what color the young man's closed eyes would be. Brown, like the chola nuts of their chola trees of the Desert? He doubts that. More like green or blue; that was the usual eye colors of the Northerners, not Wastelanders, though he could not vouch for his cousins Torn and Ashelin.

'Not a bad looker,' the Wastelander mentally admitted as he continued to outline every detail of the captive's unconscious frame.

His younger sister, Chandee soon approached him. When she stood near her brother, Chandee, the darker sibling, dropped a small bag that was in her hand to the ground. Whatever was in the bag, it was probably something alive and was most likely a small creature as it twitched a little. Her black eyes flickered onto the fallen captive near her brother's feet and she shot him a curious look.

Kaylenn explained, and chest overwhelmed with pride and malicious amusement. "Found this little pretty thing deep in the woods. Guerrero was on top of him and ready to tear him a new ass and ear."

Chandee nodded in response. She still had her eyes on the blond elf and studying his physical traits. "Hmm…good. Well I just bagged an Ottsel." She directed her gaze back on Kaylenn. "A _talking _Ottsel." Chandee shook her head and glanced at the ground beneath her feet. She sighed. " The gods must be playing with my mind."

Kaylenn snorted and waved his hand as to dismiss the idea of a talking orange rat, and in away, imply that something wrong with his sister's mind. "Yeah right. And Yakows fly."

Chandee's sable eyes narrowed at the red-eyed man, and once again, she peered at the unconscious victim to study more of his physical traits. "Don't be too sure brother. It might actually happen."

Kaylenn rolled his eyes at the statement. "Whatever." He then noticed that Aza was drawing near them. "Did you find anything Aza?"

Aza merely shrugged at the question. "One of the Metal Heads of my pack attacked a young girl. Another Havenite." She cracked her knuckles. "Feisty little wench, but I took care of her. " Once the blonde-haired Wastelander was now standing next to her sister, Chandee, she regarded the boy who lied unconscious before her. "Where did you find this cutie?" her inquiry was directed towards Kaylenn.

"Found him lying unconscious deep in the woods. Probably was trying to escape when we attacked."

Aza nodded and continued to focus on the blond-haired male, while as Chandee admitted, "Well, he is gorgeous. But, he's not my type. I don't go for blondes."

"Then let me keep him." Aza licked her shapely red lips lecherously as very lusty thoughts began to unfold in her mind of the possible fun she can have with the blond elf.

"Keep who?" Jinx's voice joined in the conversation as he made his way towards them.

Chandee and Kaylenn indicted with a tilt of their heads towards Jak. When Jinx laid his dark eyes on him, his gun quickly plummeted to the ground. His body was a pillar of salt (A/N: I know, Bible reference). The dark orbs dilated to such a large size, one would believe they were about to pop out of their sockets. "Holy shit!"

"Whad'ya think?" Aza asked, still unable to rip her eyes from the senseless youth.

Jinx commented, "Beautiful. But, Aza, you can't keep him."

Aza's eyebrows wrinkled. "Why?"

"'Cause I'm gonna keep blondie." With that, Jinx made a move towards the blond boy

Outraged, Aza stepped over the boy and moved in between Jinx and the young man. Like a raging creature claiming their territory from an intruding enemy, she pushed her cousin with great force, her brown eyes lit with seething flames of possession and intimidation. Her voice dropped, and her words spilled out in a rumbling growl: "Back the fuck up! He's—"

"No one's. Nobody is keeping him. Matter of fact, no one is keeping any of the captives. " Chandee imperatively said and separated Aza and Jinx from each other. She glanced at her sister and cousin both and noticed the lingering burning looks on each of their faces. "Remember our orders? The captives might actually belong to a noble family, so we can't take them as slaves nor kill them."

"And from what I recall," Kaylenn interjected, "Aza, you already have enough slaves to make their own city, and Jinx you're currently searching the slave market for a new one. And don't try to feed me any other bullshit, it's not gonna work." Kaylenn added as soon as he caught Jinx cutting his dark eyes towards him and opening his mouth. "We got what we came for, so we can go."

Jinx and Aza protested in unison. "But—"

"But nothing!" Chandee shouted, her frustration released and catching everyone around her unawares. She ran her dark-pigmented hand through her straight locks while she let a breath. Afterwards she said in a voice revealing a calmer mood, "Look, I'm tired and I want to go home. And I'm sure that's what we all want. Right?"

Chandee's guess was verified when she received nothing but nods from all her relatives.

"Alright then, it's settled. We leave now and head home. You," she directed at Jinx, who was ready to follow any orders in order to hasten the trip home, "Get Blondie. Aza," this time focusing her attention on her younger sister. "Get that girl you mentioned. I have the Ottsel."

After dispatching orders, Chandee stepped towards the deposited animal and snatched the bag off the ground. After picking up her 'cargo', she and Kaylenn made their way back to where the Leapers and their fellow Wastelanders were gathered (by a small lake situated deep in the woods). Jinx muttered a few choice words after being commanded by someone who was younger than him before he hauled Jak's slender form onto his shoulder and Aza went to collect her captive.

Moments later, the Spargan men and women were situated upon the saddles of their Leaper Lizards and pressed on to west to the shore of Isle of Helix and to awaiting Wastelander Air Trains and Flying Metal Heads that would return them home.

--

Many hours later found Princess Keira stirring out of her dreamless sleep as she felt as though her body was constantly shifting from side to side and was uncomfortably lying on a bumpy and solid surface. Her emerald eyes strained to make out the shadows as she glanced down. Grayish sand moved slowly beneath her and was indented and bending to the will of moving clawed feet. She slowly lifted her head (ignoring the incoming headache) and found herself staring at a black sky, a pale and glimmering moon and the ever so flirtatiously gleaming scattered stars.

'Funny.' Keira's dazed mind thought. 'I remembered being in Moonshade Woods and then…'

Keira pulled her body up, so that she was sitting sideways in the saddle and peered at her surroundings and took in the black night sky, the scattered oases and towering palm trees. She looked ahead and saw that there was a rope coiled loosely around her Leaper Lizard's neck and connected to another saddle atop the back of the Leaper in front of them. Though the Princess of Haven could only see the Leaper's rider's back, but she could differentiate that the rider was a female. Keira then looked down at her wrists, which were unfortunately bound together by rope. Keira's eyes darted back towards the rider.

Keira knew she was light in weight and took a quick look at the goods that were mounted on the Leaper Lizard, so her absence would not be noticed. But she remembered that Jak and Daxter were still held captive and was probably in the front, yet soon summed up that when she leaves the Wasteland and return to Haven City, she will tell her father about all that had transpired. He would send the Haven City Army and then the Wasteland savages would definitely get what they deserved for years and know the consequences of kidnapping Haven sovereignty.

The young woman quickly jumped off the saddle and rolled in the waves of sands. Taking no time to celebrate, Keira instantly got on her feet and sprinted away from traveling caravan of Wastelanders. She pressed on to run a couple of yards until something swiftly wrapped itself around her ankles and caused her to fall to the ground.

Keira let out a cry of frustration, defeat, and anger, knowing that someone probably saw her little escape and decided to fetch her. She made a couple of endeavors to crawl the best she could with her ankles and feet bind together, but her ears perked a little when they heard sounds of someone approaching. She would probably curse herself later for doing this, but Keira turned her head to see who witnessed her escape attempt.

Instead of seeing a face, the butt of a gun was brought to her face and darkness once again embraced her.

-- --

Erol tapped his fingers on the smooth wood surface of the table and held his chin in his fist. His burning yellow eyes dully glanced at the various leaders of the tribes and cities across the Wasteland, and his siblings. Ashelin and Torn, on the other hand, listened intently to the heated arguments and did their best to soothe the ruffled feathers of the leaders that chose to be in Spargan palace meeting room. Unlike the other leaders, who were occupied with other affairs or did not bother with the meeting. When Erol's orbs finally rested upon Baron Praxis, an arrogant-appearing and tall man with reddish-brown sideburns and mustache, ruler of Blue Blade City, a city that resided to the east of Spargus, they narrowed with ire and bubbling frustration.

Currently, Baron Praxis ('That _idiot' _Erol heatedly thought) was now banging his massive fists on the table and hurling insults at Lady Kacela (1), queen of the southwestern Crown City. She refused to allow him access to her metropolis anymore. The last time he was allowed and visited Crown, he acted most disrespectful and downright arrogant and even had the nerve to make advancements towards Kacela's mate, Lena (2). And even ordered some his soldiers to steal some of Crown City's prized Luna Bean crops.

"You fucking _puta_! All I did was give her a kiss! Yet you decide to make this such a big deal!" The Baron shouted across table, banging his fist on the table once again, knocking over many of the resting goblets on the table.

Kacela, a small young woman of twenty-eight with short and curly nut-brown tresses that framed her pointy face, glared sharp yellow-green eyes at Praxis. Her bronze face was flushed red with anger. She was trembling with terrible rage and gripped the edge of the table with her sharp and long nails. Her behavior clearly displayed her endeavor in order to remain calm and not decapitate Praxis on the spot and have his head strewn upon a stake. She said in a deadly soft voice, "You had the audacity to waltz into _my _city and showed disrespect and disregard for our customs—"

A loud and commanding thud echoed the massive chamber. The bickering instantly ceased and all eyes focused on a small servant girl of twelve that stood in the doorway. Embarrassment for causing a racket with opening the doors was apparent in her features as her tanned cheeks burned red as her short and straight locks.

Using a quick gait to rush past the eyes of the heads of Wasteland, the servant girl went to Erol. He gave her an expectant look, awaiting the reason for disturbing the meeting. Not that Erol mind that anyway, as he detested meetings, especially if Baron Praxis was involved and ranting bellowing like a furious Yakow Bull.

The young domestic's lips shook slightly and drew closer to Erol's pointed ear. Perhaps, she was terrified of Kor's eldest, not that one could blame her. Erol was maddest of the trio of siblings. She whispered, "Forgive me, _Señor_ for disturbing you, But your father requests you and your siblings' presence in the banqueting hall."

The expecting look on Erol's face vanished and was replaced with one of curiosity. "For what?"

The fresh-faced helper shook her head. "I do not know _Señor_. He did not tell me why, but he did tell me he wants you, _Señora_ Ashelin and _Señor _Torn to be there now." She did a deep and respectful bow and hastily left the room after that.

Erol sighed and rose from his pillow that was used as a seat. His siblings followed suit. He addressed the silent Wastelander chiefs in a formal voice that could barely restrain the gratitude and relief. "Forgive us for the sudden adjournment for this meeting, but we cannot ignore our father's call. You understand." That said, the three were about make their way to exit

Kacela opened her lips to utter a protest as she rose. "But—"

Ashelin, Erol and Torn turned. Ashelin stopped her with a ceasing motion of her hand. "_Señora_ Kacela, I understand you're furious about what Praxis did to your people and _Señora_ Lena, but to make you feel better, come to this tribute ceremony that our father summoned us to. I'm sure it's that, and as any Wastelander tribute ceremony goes, there'll be tequila, good food, and I remember that you brought Lena with you, so have a bit of fun, if you know what I mean." With that, she clapped a smiling Kacela on her shoulder and moved passed her brothers and headed for the entertainment chamber.

"But since Praxis touched her, I suggest not touching her for a couple of days until the scent goes away." Erol commented as he and Torn exited the room and followed their sister.

Baron Praxis' face was redder than all the combined hair colors of Kor's offspring, if any of the leaders could ever recall at the time later on in the day.

--

The fierce and hurried beating of the drums thundered throughout the massive room. The jingling of the dancers' coin necklaces, sashes and occasionally bras, also happened to be dispersed among fast pounding of the drums. Shrill trilling accompanied the sensual yet fast dance movements. Guests hailing from the noble families of Spargus City were occupied stuffing their mouths with the exotic food that decorated the surface of a long table that was situated at one side of the great hall. Others were lustfully observing the sensual and up-tempo dance movements of the dancers that were chosen to entertain the honored crowd and royal family. A small number of the guests were imbibing tequila and getting pissed drunk while others were actually chatted with others.

Sat upon grand chairs and observing the current activities with dull expressions was the Spargan Royal Family. Kor, in the center with Erol on his left, Ashelin on his right, and Torn sat on Ashelin's right.

"This bores me," Erol declared barely stifling yawn as he watched one of the dancers; a pale young man with ivory skin and wavy raven waist-length locks who was watching the Spargan prince with lavender eyes. Interest and seduction glittered in the dancer's eyes and now he was moving his lithe body only for the watching prince. However, it did little to stimulate Erol's interest and he muttered with contempt, "Whore,"

"Funny. I thought you would want him" Kor stated, not asked, also noticing the dancer's looks toward his eldest son.

Erol shrugged and took another sip of his drink." He's pretty, but he's pale and I like a challenge."

Kor and Ashelin rolled their eyes at Erol's obviously false statement. Ashelin said looking over her father to her older brother, "Yeah right. A challenge for you is someone who doesn't spread their legs for you in five seconds."

Erol then narrowed his amber-brown eyes at his sister. "You're calling me a whoremonger, sister?"

Kor's only daughter lips curled slightly. "No, I'm calling you a person who likes to be and sleeps with sluts. Brother."

Erol chose to ignore the comment and returned back to watching the nobles and their interactions. Kor then focused on Torn, who was watching the dancers' with mild interest, but paying no attention to none in particular. Torn's long finger circled the rim of his resting goblet and held his chin in his fist in a classically bored manner that only could belong to him, of all of the counted members of their family. The King of Spargus questioned his youngest child, "What about you Torn?"

"Not my type." Torn briefly said before taking a swig of his beverage and slamming back onto the arm of his chair.

The fuzzy white eyebrows furrowed at Torn's implied refusal for sex with the willing young man. "I do not understand you, Torn. You are only twenty-three years old yet you still refuse to beget an heir. Is it because—"

"Lord Kor," a deep yet feminine voice said respectfully, which turned out to be Lady Sophia, the main priestess of one temples dedicated to Hippolyta (3), the Goddess of challenges, power, and lands, standing before the four royals. Despite being a woman of the age of forty-five years, she still retained the splendor from her youth, from her graceful and bodacious curves, short curly reddish brown tresses, a small number of wrinkles, eyes imitating the color of the sand of the Wasteland and shapely red lips. She deeply bowed before she said, "In honor of your children's successes in battle, some of the guests, their cousins, and myself included, will offer gifts in order to offer tribute to them."

"An excellent idea," Kor pleasantly replied. "But however, I'm afraid that probably most of the gifts are probably jewelry, perfumes, and things that are highly valuable yet nothing that my offspring will not need nor want. Am I correct?"

Sophia nodded and said, "You assume correctly, my lord."

"Well…" Kor began; a mischievous notion coming to him was obvious in the gleam of his eyes. "Are there any gifts that might be a little more…_interesting_?"

A delighted and malicious smile curled at the corners of Sophia's pouty lips and lit up her tanned face.

"Ah, yes, we do. In fact, there are two prizes that are surely… interesting. Perhaps you, the Princes and Princess would like to inspect the worthiness of these prizes."

A nod from Kor confirmed his acceptance at the offer. The priestess turned to face the crowd and called to the crowd, "Friends of King Kor, fellow Spargans, nobles of the great City of Spargus, grant me your ears."

At Sophia's words, the hubbub died down, and the dancers ceased in their dance and gathered to one side of the room. Again, the priestess spoke once again, moving away from the Royal Family and towards the crowd. "In honor of the successful battles of the armies of the Wasteland lead by Princes Erol and Torn, and Princess Ashelin, we celebrate. As tribute to our beloved Princes and Princess, _Señor_ Kaylenn and _Señora_ Aza and I offer two tender spoils of war taken from the Isle of Helix…"

Hisses of hatred emerged from the lips of the crowd. Lady Sophia held her hand up to stop the sounds. She had stopped walking and continued, "…one of the accursed chain islands of Geili Isle. My fellow Spargans, I present to you the first prize...a delicate flower..."

Sophia clapped her hands. At her hands' command, the grand doors that stood behind the crowd were burst open. The multitude was immediately divided into two and created a line in order to not be in the path of Aza, who happened to emerge from behind the doors. Behind her, was a Leaper Lizard that was being lead by its reins; however the traverse creature was not what everyone was peering at. They were paying attention to whoever was seated on its saddle.

On the Leaper's saddle, sat a young woman adorned in a long flowing emerald dress with long sleeves and her entire face was concealed by a veil that was slightly sheer. It was evident that the maiden was not in the most pleasant of moods due to her frantic and wild struggling; alas, it was all she could do, as her wrists were bound behind her back.

Many of the eyes of the men and women in the throng glistened wickedly as they took note of the girl's struggles. When Aza stopped a couple of paces away from where her cousins and uncle sat, she rushed towards the girl to dislodge her from the beast's back, which prove to a dilemma as the girl attempted to kick her when she was picked up. Unfortunately for her, Aza chose to drop her unceremoniously on the floor and pushed her upper body into the floor to prevent any further struggles. Though she was put in a humiliating position, the girl showed her defiance by still struggling.

Sophia stepped towards the girl and ripped the veil off of her face and the upper half of the dress, exposing the girl's bare and pale breasts (and adding more humiliation and shame for the Northerner young woman, who let out a shrill scream and covered her assets) to the Spargan spectators. A collective gasp echoed throughout the room.

The girl was exactly like of all the forest nymphs described in the fairytales that Havenite slaves would speak of. Not in the presence of their Wastelander masters, but in the private circles of friends or children when they were speaking of their former country, culture, and their mythology. The girl's shimmering locks and eyes seemed to be created from glittering emeralds, her pale skin sculpted from ivory, and had a body curvy enough to drive one out of their mind.

Kor glanced at the expressions of his offspring's countenances to draw out their thoughts on the girl. Torn and Erol watched the maid with slight interest, though Erol gave her frame a couple of looks over more than Torn. Ashelin, on the other hand, could not tear her own green eyes off the green-haired elf and was trying to compose her features and force them into an expression of indifference, but the King of Spargus was no fool.

"She is lovely," Ashelin was the first to remark, which was no surprise. It was very obvious she wanted the green-haired girl.

Kor nodded. "Then you'll take her. Thank you, Aza and _Señora_ Sophia."

Sophia smiled. "_De nada_, _Señor_. I'm very glad that you are pleased with the gift."

Torn and Erol then noticed the green-haired maiden's eyes constantly darting curious looks at Ashelin and Sophia, realization quickly settling into their minds. Erol directed a question to the priestess, "Does the girl speak _Río_ (4)?"

An unsure frown settled on Sophia's face. She shrugged. "I'm not really sure, but I would not be surprised. Aza found her on the Isle of Helix in Moonshade Woods. The girl is a Havenite."

Once the final word was uttered, it sparked a wave of ire and hatred among the crowd. Dozens of heat-filled gazes were fastened onto the girl, while hisses of resentment and mutterings of "Havi," took flight into the air of the room.

"Probably from a noble family," Torn made a statement. "Which explains why Kaylenn and the others returned early."

"So that would explain why they were playing coy when we asked what happened on Helix." Ashelin deduced while still having her bright green eyes locked on the Havenite girl.

"So, this young maiden might prove to be useful to us," Kor declared, his eyes flickered; his mind already at work. "A slave for Ashelin, a source of information for all three of you and the Spargan Army. Two gifts in one." Kor then took a gander at the girl and before looking at his niece, Aza. He waved his hand and commanded, "Take her away and bring her to Ashelin's chambers. Bring in the next prize."

Without a moment's hesitation, Aza dragged the Havenite girl away, even when she still proceeded in fighting her captor off.

Kor then said to Sophia, "I hope the next one is beneficial for us as well."

An impish smirk was plastered on Sophia's features again. "Oh, believe me my lord, this prize is even better than the girl."

Kor hmphed and said, "We shall see."

The challenging phrase caused Sophia's grin to grow more of a sly edge. Once again, the priestess of Hippolyta clapped her hands. As soon as the sounds ricocheted across the room, the two massive doors opened once again. From the entrance, poured Kaylenn and two very tall and burly guards leading a bound and covered figure.

When the guards and the red-eyed male were close enough to Kor and his spawn, Kaylenn stepped away from the veiled figure, except for one. One guard slashed the blue cloth off the slim form, while the other still kept his grip on the rope that had bound the figure's hands and ripped off the cloth covering the person's head. When the person underneath was revealed to everyone in the room, convulsive breathings permeated the air, a large number of cups plummeted to the floor, and many eyes were protruding out of their sockets.

"_Qué muñeco_…(5)" some of the guests whispered.

Sophia' words appeared to ring true. The second 'prize' verified to be better than the previous one. This time, the prize was a young man. Like the girl, the boy was obviously a Havenite, and extremely filthy, but it did not matter as his stunning beauty seem to purge any emotions of hate or disgust at such filth at the moment. Radiant cerulean eyes glittered with an angry wildfire as they narrowed at the people that surrounded him. His shoulder-length flaxen and oddly green highlighted hair was untidy and dusty with sand. The young male's complexion appeared to be a tad bit darker than any usual Havenite, yet was still fair in comparison to the swarthy or dark colors of the Wastelanders in the banqueting room.

For a while, a moment of silence transpired, all eyes were on the Havenite youth. The boy shot curious looks at the royal family of Haven City's most despised enemies. However, to a casual observer, the recipient of most of the curious looks was Torn, who was also watching the blond male with his cold blue eyes.

Sophia's patience was wearing down as she pressed on. "Well? Who wants him?"

In response to the holy woman's question, Erol stepped forward. His yellow eyes were burning with an intense blaze of animalistic lust. The very expression apparently unsettled the boy as he attempted step back, but the one Spargan sentinel set a painful twist to the rope in his humungous hand and pulled him back. The boy winced and hissed in pain. It was obvious to the audience, his siblings and his father, that the eldest heir to the Spargan throne would desire the boy as he continued step forward until he was at least a breath's away from him. However, the young man did not accept to showing his unsettlement and stood still and kept his eyes narrowed and unto the Wastelander prince.

However, what presented itself as a shocking revelation was that Torn quickly stood up as well. Again, the sound of various gasps and whispers filled the room, which caused Erol to turn away from boy, and look at his sibling. His eyebrow rose in question and an amused smirk with a challenging edge was presented. "Aaaahhhh… so you want this boy too, little brother?" Erol added the title to ruffle his brother's usually and easily stroked temper.

The fact alone proved itself as Torn's lips settled to an unpleasant frown. "What's it to you?"

"I hate to disappoint you, dear brother. " Erol's sneer grew. "But I saw the boy and thus I claim him as mine. I would share but…"

"No, that's alright, I don't like fooling around with others' sloppy seconds anyway. Especially yours."

The spectators laughed at Torn's remark. Erol then forced them to close their mouths as he shot daggers at them.

"Well then, we reached a dilemma." Erol faced and announced this to the listening audience. "Both Prince Torn and I want this ravishing creature, but both refuse to share, like all brothers should…"

The crowd laughed once again in response. However, Torn and Ashelin rolled their eyes at Erol's comment. The Havenite male narrowed his eyes when he noticed the movements of the eldest prince's lips in curiosity and confusion, and glanced at the laughing nobles. This clearly displayed his ignorance of the Wastelander tongue.

A daring glint burned in the yellow orbs of Erol as he returned his gaze back onto Torn, who now had his cerulean ones poised in a heated gaze. "So, brother what do you propose we do? Aaahh…wait a minute…" The commander of the Spargan army tilted his head and placed a finger on his lips as in a reflective and contemplating manner. A second later, a mischievous curl was set back on the corners of his mouth. "How about we ask Father?"

Torn quickly knew that this situation was going to be in favor of Erol, as in these cases, Kor tend to grace his eldest with the best, then will offer the rest to his twin daughter and son. Oh well. The loss of possible lays a night with a gorgeous youth may seem disappointing, however, Torn usually compensates for things like this, by stealing priceless possessions Erol gained from raids, doting rulers, etc, that he failed to see in the value of.

Torn nonchalantly shrugged. "Your call."

Erol smiled as though he earned a victory. "Well then. Father?" Erol turned his form to focus on his father, Kor, who watching this with dispassionate eyes yet an amused smile. "Who do you think should have this?" To emphasize or prove his claim and point of deserving the young man, Erol grabbed the boy's chin and forced him to set his still glaring yet brilliant eyes on the King of Spargus.

Tension and suspense held their grip on the atmosphere. Excited and impatient breaths could be heard if one strained their elongated ears to hear. All eyes were on the monarch that had say in all of the Wasteland and even over the seemingly ruthless Metal Heads and lawless and the barbaric Marauders. The decision and the Havenite's fate relied on Kor's lips, this is what everyone knew, even the boy appeared to have that dawning look of realization mingling with fear and anger as he probably had a grasp of what was going on, even if he was not skilled in the linguistics of the Wastelander language.

Finally, Kor opened his lips. For a moment, the rapid and excited pants of the crowd ceased. One or two even managed to drop the goblets because the anticipation was so great. Kor's soft and slightly croaking voice also seemed to behold that authority as he spoke. "The boy should be given to…"

Even though their father did not announce any name yet, Erol triumphantly and smugly sneered at Torn who appeared indifferent with his arms crossed and had a calm facial expression. The audience was no better as many shouted, "Erol should have him!" or _¡El Caos del Fuego_(6). The other half of the throng were cheering Torn's name. Sophia, shook her head while she walked in a circle to hear the verdict. The noblemen and women did not realize that their impulsive cries were obstructing Kor from proclaiming his answer, thus to say the least, he was slightly irritated.

"_SILENCE!" _roared the Metal Head Leader and King. He banged his fist on the arms of his throne, his voice now was raspy, powerfully echoing, sounding as though two people inhabited his body and were speaking. He bared his teeth, which teetering onto becoming fangs. Now, there was the silence like he commanded, his subjects looked onto their ruler with respect and fear, acting as though they were children that disobeyed their parents' orders and were now being scolded. His children, however, gazed at their father dutifully and respectfully, but there was not a trace of fear in their eyes. He cleared his throat, his voice now soft yet commanding.

"The Havenite, from this day forward, shall serve…Torn."

End of Chapter Three

Author's Notes:

(1) Kacela, from what I remember, from a website, is African and is Swahili and means 'Hunter.'

(2) Lena is a female Latin name, which either means 'light', or 'alluring.'

(3) Hippolyta, was a character in Greek Mythology, that was queen of the Amazons, a race of warrior women. So I think you can understand why I chose her to be a goddess in this story.

(4) 'Río' is Spanish for 'River.' You find out later the Wastelander language is called that.

(5) 'Muñeco' is Spanish for 'doll', but in Spanish slang or Street Spanish, it is used to describe a good-looking man or is a term used to call a good-looking male. Plus, when you use _"¡Qué...!"_ as an exclamation, you're saying, "What a...!" So in this case, the Wasteanders are saying, "What a doll/or cutie!"

(6)'Caos del Fuego' means in Spanish 'Chaos Fire.' I think we all know why I would use that for Erol.


	5. Chp 4: Nightly Alliances between Nations

This is the moment you all been waiting for, the smut and the sex

This is the moment you all been waiting for, the smut and the sex. I'm sorry if the scenes suck, remember people this is my first time doing this. Please be kind. Also, since the Wastelanders have a language, I am going to let the Havenites and other races have a language and a name for it too. For the Havenites, in their language, I'm just making English words and turn them backwards. I know, I know, most used trick in the book, but what ya gonna do?

Also, the scenes here involve heavy yaoi and light yuri action. If this ain't your cup of tea, then I suggest hon to take a walk to Starbucks and order yourself something else. Any flames will be laughed at and used to barbecue the chicken I have in my refrigerator.

I still do not own any of the characters, creatures, and inventions from the Jak series and Naughty Dog. It is a sad thing.

Other than that, if you are one who enjoys these types of things, read on!

Chapter Four: Nightly Alliances Between Nations

"The Havenite, from this day forward, shall serve…Torn"

Once the proclamation was heard from all across the banqueting hall, a wave of diverse reactions boomed from the crowd. Some shouted in dissent against their King's decision, while as others cheered for the victory Torn earned, while as many murmured to one another, and a small minority were praising the gods for a such a blessing that happened to befallen upon the youngest Prince.

The Royal Family, however, have their own responses to this surprising declaration. Ashelin rose from her seat, to pat her brother on the back and congratulating him in finally being victorious over Erol. Of which was a rare occasion that the two of them could relate to one another and revel in, if a moment such as this came gliding along. Torn continued to wear an unconcerned mask, yet within him was a ball of tremendous excitement and happiness. He also kept an eye on the Havenite boy, who was absorbing all of what was happening around him in total confusion.

Erol was, to say the least, disappointed. Seething rage was ignited and smoldered in his eyes. An inhuman snarl climbed its way from his chest and rumble out of his mouth. His pearly white teeth were bared and shown in a very hostile frown, his canine teeth were morphing into fangs at an alarming rate. Finally, he did something that demonstrated his half Metal Head nature, demigod-like strength and ferocious temper. He stalked to the wall, and with a Metal Head-like roar, he landed a blow and left a very ugly hole in the wall.

King Kor happened to peer at the proceedings before him. He was not foolish and foresaw the responses of the noblemen, and his children, especially Erol. He rose and bellowed, _"¡SILENCIO! _"

Kor's roar quieted the crowd and ceased any furthermore aggressive actions or attitudes. He calmed himself a little before he continued. "I am King of Spargus, Ruler of the United Seven Tribes of the Wasteland, I have power over the _Las Cabezachapas_ (1) and the savage Marauders—the very ones that will snatch your children to sacrifice to their heathen idol gods, whatever I say goes."

Erol appeared to be the only one that wanted to contradict his father's words. He sauntered in a menacing gait, "But Father—!"

But Kor stopped him in his tracks with a commanding hand. "You best watch your step, boy. Be mindful of who you challenge. You already get the most precious and valuable things, yet you barely use them. And if I'm correct you already have a harem…"

"Yes, true, but—"

Kor crossed his arms over one another in front of his body. Both of his palms were faced down. _"¡Basta! _(2)You also have a large number of brats roaming around this palace and everyone's constantly watching their step to make sure they don't step on them. You do not need to beget another heir. Your sister and brother, however, have no slaves to pleasure them. Thus, my word is final. The boy belongs to Torn." He glanced at the two guards that still kept their vigilant eyes on the boy if he tried to escape. Kor said to them, "Take him to be prepared and bring him to Torn's chambers. "

Obediently, the sentinels followed their orders. The one that held rope that coiled around the young man's wrists harshly tugged and reeled the boy behind him as he walked off, with the other guard following behind them.

"Wait!" Torn suddenly called out.

The guards halted in their tracks at their prince's command. Their identical sable and the boy's eyes narrowed in curiosity. Torn stepped up to the one warrior behind the boy. He whispered in his ear, "Be sure that servants take care of that damn goatee and tell them to _thoroughly_ clean him."

Mischief, amusement and understanding glinted in the guard's orbs as he nodded. After that, him, the boy and fellow warrior walked towards the entrance. The massive doors gave way as they opened and closed with a thud and finality.

--

After that ceremony (? Keira was still unsure what the event was about as she failed to interpret what the Wastelanders were saying), she was bathed, dried off and dressed in a bizarre and lewd garb and placed in a strange room. Keira's delicate fingers played with the soft fabric of her jade skirt, attempting to do whatever it takes to fight off the increasing knot of anxiety and fear that resided in her chest. Her green eyes took a deep look at her current surroundings.

The domain was massive and grand, those words Keira would have chosen to describe it. The floor beneath her was of beige stucco that stretched to every corner. A huge mat lied in the center, which appeared to be a soft material, something shaved off the back of an animal. She then glanced at the bed behind her and found it to be big enough to fit ten people and had immaculate and stunning sheets made from furs of creatures she may not have heard of. Pillars resided at every corner, decorated with detailed and splendid arabesques. Before the Havenite sovereign, was a religious altar covered with a plain black cloth. On top were exotic fruits, scattered ashes and burned incense that left a strong yet pleasing aroma. In the center of the offered gifts was an empowering yet small statue carved out a black mineral. It was in shape of a woman set in a defensive pose. Her golden and glimmering yellow gem eyes held a menacing yet not besmirching look upon her appealing features. In both of her raised hands, she held two hissing snakes in her hands, a pearl-white hawk perched on her shoulders and encircled in a ring of fire.

The very image frightened Keira, but she then mentally chided herself for being scared of a small pagan idol that no doubt was one of the goddesses of the heathen pantheon that the Wastelanders worshipped. She took quick looks at the walls to see if there was any other grotesque or barbaric thing in this room. Keira did discover a large number of swords and sais hung on the wall at every part of the room. She grimaced and the anxiety in her chest grew ever more.

What were the Wastelanders going to do to her and her cousins? Were they going to immediately execute her, Jak and Daxter as the Wastelanders probably already knew their identities? Just as Keira knew that back in the massive hall, she was face-to-face with the widely known and feared Spargan Royal Family. She recognized the elderly man as King Kor, but the two young males, she could not decide on which was Torn and which was Erol. The young woman among them, Keira presumed to be Ashelin, the only female in the deadly trio of siblings that spread terror across Geili Isle, thus earned more renown, besides being a woman and one in such a hell-raising group of siblings.

When Keira thought about Ashelin, that strange tingling in her stomach began to come back to life, more powerful than it was before at the ceremony when she first laid eyes on the Wastelander Princess. Keira could not place nor describe the feeling at the time, but felt some potent pull towards her, her eyes drawn to the eyes that imitated the same color as hers, those flaming red dreadlocks, her crimson and voluptuous lips, the strange and intricate pale blue tattoos delicately drawn out on her pleasing face, her ever desirable and curvaceous body. Now, Keira grudgingly understood that this was probably lust.

Though Keira was a virgin, she was not blind to what was around her, and very much lust was spoken of in Haven City. It was often described to be a powerful emotion that can seem difficult to be seen as controllable and how wrong it was to give in to it. She also remembered her father stressing to her to remain a virgin until marriage and the talks she would witness during her walks through Haven City the influential prophets had with the common people of how same-sex love was wrong and to feel lust for either the opposite or same sex was to be condemned. This was the part that bothered Keira. She was drowning in a sea of deep shame, as she knew she felt strong desire for a woman—a Wastelander woman at that and the same one who caused the destruction of many villages on North Island and struck fear into people's hearts.

A sudden sound snatched Keira out of her self-damnation. The green-haired elf glanced to her side and saw that the said woman of her thoughts of lust stepped in. Her fear and thrill soared as she watched Ashelin closed the door behind her and locked it.

However, the Princess of Spargus did not move any step towards the Princess of Haven City. Ashelin leaned against the door and crossed her arms, eyeing Keira, with a contemplating expression plastered on her lovely tattooed face.

For a while the two Princesses stared at each other in a pensive and lustful manner. Until Ashelin finally spoke, not in Río, but Comyn (3) tongue. "I know who you are."

Keira's orbs became wide with surprise and apprehension, not only because of the shocking usage of an unexpected language but the sudden announcement of her identity. "How did you find out?"

"Earlier, when a couple of the Spargan Army's soldiers were…'interrogating' a Dunner (4), a dark elf. He wouldn't tell them anything, even though he really didn't need to. The soldiers suspected he was a bodyguard, judging by his clothes and that he accompanied the small squad of Krimzon Guards on the Isle of Helix with you. So when they searched him, they found a seal of Hektor, the first Havenite Royal Guard, from underneath his clothes. Only the Royal Guards at Haven wear those things." Ashelin then noticed Keira's orbs expand. "Ah, so you know what the seal is and you probably know the guard. Well, that confirms your status."

Ashelin moved from her leaning position and towards Keira. The Havenite Princess instinctively backed away from her, until Ashelin sat on the floor along with her. Amusement danced in Ashelin's eyes as she watched Keira. A smirk happened to break upon her features. "Relax, Princess, I'm not going to kill you."

The green eyebrows scrunched at the Wastelander female in suspicion. "Why not?"

Ashelin said with nonchalance and a shrug. "Because there is no need to kill you."

"You could always use me for information." Keira was not hesitant in telling Ashelin that she was not stupid and did not trust her.

Surprisingly, when Keira presented the motive, Ashelin's face made an almost sympathetic expression. Sympathy for who or what, Keira did not know. However, she did slowly moved closer towards Keira. "Why would I want to pump you for information? I'm sure your father made sure to keep you out of discussions with the generals and scientists. And I know for a fact that you are no warrior."

Ashelin's presumption was correct. It was true. King Samos would refuse to let her, Daxter and even Jak from listening to his talks with anyone from the Power Station or the Army. Also, he did not allow Keira to go train with Jak in his battling lessons. Still, she warily watched the Wastelander Princess. "You do not know what I am capable of. Also, what do you want?"

With that Ashelin's green eyes glittered and moved her head closer to Keira, and whispered, her breath warm and soft as it caressed Keira's face. Uncontrolled desire and the heavy layer of Ashelin's Wastelander accent coated the words. "Whoever is sitting before me."

Again, that tingling in Keira's stomach increased twofold, and the disturbing feel of moisture oozing from between her legs. Keira found herself staring at Ashelin's bosom, unconsciously licked her lips, wondering what it would be like revere the tanned breast with her—

'No! No! No! No!' Keira's mind screamed at her. This was another woman she lusting after and that was immoral. It was even more wrong on another level as she felt passion for a Wastelander. Now she will eternally be damned—

Keira's reverie shattered when she felt a pair of soft lips upon her own. The kiss was nowhere near gentle and fumbling. It was expert-like, deep and searching. Keira was bombarded with a blend of sweetness, spice and the desert. The Wastelander's tongue lapped at her lips for a bit until they managed to slip through guarded passage of Keira's lips and started to trying rouse a battle with her tongue.

The Havenite Princess' cheeks burned so red that they could almost be compared the very hue of Ashelin's tresses. She was riding high on euphoria and pleasure that still continued to climb, as the Spargan Princess' hands were not idle as they slowly traveled up and down her bare arms—

'Wait! What I am I doing!' Keira once again, mentally shouted. With surprising strength she shoved Ashelin off of her, causing the other female to hit the wall with a loud thud.

Abruptly, Keira quickly comprehended of what she committed and especially unto Ashelin, the very member of Kor's offspring, who possessed with a reputation that was fearsome as her brothers'. She then was reminded of her current position now, a Havenite royal in the hands of Wastelanders that could do whatever to or with her as they pleased.

The green-haired elf expected Ashelin to hold blazing green fires in those eyes of hers before she could unleash her temper. The very thought had shaken and terrified Keira, but she could not allow to those feelings to make their selves known. Instead, she arranged her face, and glared at the imitating female.

Ashelin, at the time, established her piercing green eyes on the 'offended' woman. However, there was no gleam of hatred or anger, but a glint of understanding and amusement.

"How dare you!" Keira shouted in feigned indignity, though within hid the trembling ball of fear and confusion. "How dare you lay hands on me and condemn me!"

It was then one ruby eyebrow shot up. The amusement twinkling in the green orbs sparkled even more, as though the other Princess' words intentionally insulting words did nothing but humor her. Once again, that enticing voice laced with now a slight Wastelander accent spoke. "Oh, I see. I forgot how big of hypocrites you Havenites tend to be,"

Princess Hagai's eyes indignantly slanted at Ashelin. "What do you mean by that?"

Ashelin rose from her fallen position and sauntered back over to Keira. She still wore that interested look upon her face as she placed a hand over her hip. "You know what exactly what I mean. You walk with your noses stuck high in the air and act like you're so righteous and pure, even though you sold children of the Playners to your sister villages all because they didn't believe in your 'Precursors'."

Keira's eyes expanded greatly in total disbelief. "That is not true!"

Now, Spargus' only royal female warrior eyes shimmered with the annoyance of being countered. Even though she was sure that Keira was not even aware of many corrupt ways of her people, Ashelin had the duty to bring her out of her bubble. "Do you think it's best to tell me what's the truth and what's not the truth? I am Co-Commander of the Spargan Army, I've seen gruesome battles, and I'd seen many things in my lifetime. _I_ did horrible things and even enjoyed them, no lie about that. But I did witness such things as child slaves taken away from their homes because of their beliefs, so-called Precursor monks that even participated in cult ceremonies and ate the flesh of an unsuspecting soul…"

Keira's eyes expanded so wide that might even grow to large for her face. She still shook head as to sway the facts away. "The monks are our most holiest men!"

Ashelin then took a seat on the floor again. She scoffed in disbelief at the very thought. "Judging from what you say, I'm presuming you North Islanders give the monks the right of infallibility, which is a bunch of Yakow shit. There is no such thing of a person that is without fault or error."

Keira snorted. "Of course you would say that, you Wastelanders are so frighteningly unreligious, you probably celebrate flaws and impiousness."

A shrug was the response to Keira's comment. "You can say all that you want. At least we are not a hypocritical society and do not claim to be peaceful and loving when we fight in the name of our religion, like some people we know."

"How dare you!" With that, Keira's small hand rose to deal a blow to Ashelin's face. However, the Wastelander female predicted the intended blow and caught it with one hand. Seeing the advantage of her grip on the now struggling Haven Princess, Ashelin shoved her to the floor.

Immediately catching sight of her vulnerable position, Keira became ever more persistent. She wiggled and squirmed, pounding and shoving at Ashelin's shoulders. She even snarled in frustration, and even reached up to scratch at the Spargan's dodging face.

Ashelin took all the ridiculously annoying and possible injury-inflicting endeavors in her stride. Though the amusement soon scoured away and supplanted curiosity as soon as she witnessed tears slithering down Keira's face.

Ashelin softly asked, "Keira," the name probably sounded so foreign because she no longer addressed the other maiden with the formal address she used before. Also, maybe because the way her cultural pronunciation said as it sounded slightly strange as it was enunciated as _Kay-rah_, not _Kear-rah_, which was the correct pronunciation of it.

However, the use of her name did little to cease Keira's tears. Her wide expressive orbs were now protruding and watery yet still bestowed with that luring power they had when they first stared at Ashelin. Her voice now sounded cracked and broken even when she pleaded in Savantian (5), her people's tongue, "_Esalp_… Please"

Ashelin may not have been educated in Keira's written or spoken language but she could even sum up that Keira was begging 'Please'. Hearing the plea uttered from the once proud Havenite Princess' lips, concern was etched across Ashelin's face, however her interest did not recede. "Keira, what's wrong? Why do you not want this? I know you want me."

Keira turned in order to conceal any further tears that dared to slide down her face. Nonetheless, she answered: "Because this is not right. But…I-I-I… d… want you." The green-haired belle decided to swallow her pride and confront her captor, even with the apparent trails of teardrops. "If I do this, I am condemned, unclean and will burn for this."

Much to her surprise, Keira received a gentle touch on her countenance by Ashelin's gloved hand. Those forest-green eyes once again shimmered with comprehension yet also contained that hidden layer of want. "Keira, you will learn that no matter what you do or say, being your purpose to please others or not, there will always be a number that will not accept your actions or words because they think this way or that or wish to cause your life a living hell. Not only that, the very ones that claim this is wrong, probably commit this more than you. I cannot promise you that you will burn I the afterlife, but you got a long way to go until death, so you really should not be worried. Plus, you can say to yourself that you are not doing this for love, but just admit you want me."

Ashelin allowed a moment for her words to seep into Keira's mind. With her previous slaves and lovers, she could care less if her temporary lover or one-night stand refused or had second thoughts in lying with her. Usually, her sai, body or reputation persuaded them sooner or later and from that moment on there was no point of return. However, Keira was a different tale that had yet to be opened, read and understood. The girl was a virgin, that fact Ashelin could definitely spot a mile away and thus caused her to be careful and patient and not force herself on Keira until the girl was certain that she consented into losing her virginity.

Suddenly, a wet yet pleasant pair of quivering lips clumsily fastened themselves at the corner of Ashelin's lips. The Wastelander vaguely smiled and softly grabbed Keira's chin in order to tilt her head a little so that her lips were completely on hers. Ashelin retuned the touch of lips, adding her fire, causing the very bonfire within them to burn and smolder. The kiss was the sign of Keira's assent to this decision.

When the two pulled away, the Havenite Princess' hands crawled to the back of her neck to untie her emerald exposing halter, the fabric fell to the floor, pooling between the two women. When Keira divulge her well-formed breasts to Ashelin, it was the unspoken seal of this agreed embrace that was not met in love, but white-hot passion and brought together two nations that night.

--

"Go on _Halcón_. _Sólo toma una miradita _(5). " One guard encouraged his fellow warrior as his black eyes darted up and down the grand hallway to check if anybody happened to pass by.

Halcón's gray eyes rolled as he shook his head. "Is it that important for me to see someone we are forbidden to gaze upon once they are behind the doors of a sovereign's bed chambers, even if he is lovely, Ares?"

"Yes, it is." Halcón's acquaintance argued.

"Fine." Halcón acquiesced, only to shut the other guard up. He unlocked the locks that were applied to the door. When he was finished with last lock, he opened the door to Torn's chambers a smidgen and with one eye, he peeked through the slit. His gray eyes grew enormous as they were blessed with the sight before him.

Tamed and combed locks of mixed gold and green shone in the dull glow of the candles. A lean yet sculpted back rippled as its owner sighed, sitting on the bed. Halcón, the Captain of the Spargan Royal Guard, sucked in most of his breath that he later cursed and thanked himself for. The blond-haired elf in the room revolved his body around and gazed at the peeping guard with eyes of deep cerulean blue, and a face with beauty crafted into every curve of it.

Halcón immediately shut the door. His tanned cheeks burned intensely red and the delightful spin in his stomach traveled down and his member twitched and tingled in frustration. Gods, not even his mate, as pretty as he was, was nothing like _that_…Prince Torn obviously must really have a lucky totem animal or favored greatly among on the gods, because if he remembered correctly, Spargus' youngest Prince always managed to have the most exquisite-looking…

The sounds of throat being cleared shook Halcón out of his musing. He glanced to his right and much to his surprise he was confronted with the sight of the said Prince, who was wearing a slight perturbed and curious expression on his visage.

Though the gray-eyed guard was a subordinate, he was a couple years older than Torn, turned twenty-six years this year and luckily for him, the youngest Prince of Spargus even called him a friend. However, friend or foe, Halcón still had to revere his Prince. He said, "Forgive me sir."

Before Halcón and Ares could extract explanations for their previous acts from the very air, Torn's hand rose, summoning them to silence and obstruct any future words. "Forget about it. Both of you leave."

One of Ares' wheat blond thin eyebrows rose. "With the Havenite? Alone?"

Had it been anybody else talking to the two warriors, one would have mistaken Ares' inquiries as response of disappointment of not being able to hear anything from the door behind him. However it was half of that and the rising concern within him not wanting to leave his prince alone with someone that could be capable of killing him.

Torn seemed to sense those thoughts wheeling around in Ares' mind by looking at his face. Torn snorted with his raspy voice. "Please, I doubt he's gonna try to pull anything, even if there are weapons at every corner, that gives me an advantage as much as him. Now go."

Halcón inclined head towards his prince and glanced back to the door. He then boldly sent Torn a mischievous smile that basically translated to, 'Hope you have a good time.' After that, he and Ares quickly marched up the hallway and they reached a corner, they disappeared to the right.

Without a moment's hesitation, Torn flung his door open. When it came in impact with the wall, it produced a thunderous bang that caused the boy that was lounging on his bed to turn around and slant those cerulean eyes at him.

Without taking his own icy blue eyes off the blond Havenite, Torn's hands went behind his back in order to lock the door. Torn only did so for privacy sakes and in order to obstruct any possible escape from the blond elf.

Even when the Wastelander was slowly approaching, the fair-haired elf did not flinch nor attempt to back away. He still continued to stare angrily at the Wastelander, even when he just sauntered pass his bed to a dresser where a bottle of tequila taken its place on top.

Torn reached for a small glass that resided a little farther away from the tequila bottle. When the cork top was pulled off with an audible 'POP', he addressed the blond young man on his bed suddenly, in Comyn tongue, not Río, "You best place that dagger away, Havenite. You just gonna end up getting hurt and making an unnecessary mess that I'll have to clean up."

The dreadlock-haired elf could almost _hear_ the cerulean eyes slanted ever more, but he could also sense the surprise within the boy as well. "Oh, I'm so sorry if I should ever place that burden on you. And suppose if I did have something on me, how did you know?"

Torn snorted. He turned to face the golden-haired captive. "Warrior instincts, Havenite."

When the youngest prince of Spargus returned to pour some tequila in the glass, Havenite spoke, indignation and defiance were strong in his voice, "I don't doubt that for a bit. Oh, and by the way, _Wastelander_, I do have a name."

Torn then downed the shot of tequila, paying no mind to the burning sensation that slithered all the way down his throat. He slammed the glass back onto the dresser and turned around to confront the Havenite and leaned against the smooth surface of the dresser. "I'm sure you do, Prince Jak of Haven City."

The Prince of Spargus was very much pleased with his last remark as looked at Prince Jak's face morph into an expression of shock and hidden fear. Torn took in the blond elf's wide eyes and opened mouth. Finally, Jak's shocked look was gone and a new one took place: one of challenge and courage, and questioned the Wastelander with his deep voice, "How the hell did you find out?"

Torn shrugged, his posture still slack and leaning against the dresser, his smugness radiating off of him. "I have my sources."

"I'm sure you do."

The more Torn spoke with the Havenite, the more he was astonished by his good looks, yet what intrigued him the most was his fiery nature and sarcastic tongue. He was unlike most of the blond Havenites Torn ever encountered and definitely did not hold any similarities to Torn's previous lovers and slaves before him that did not live very long.

However, the Prince of Spargus was not only one who was now being fed piece by piece of surprise and interest. Jak took notice of Torn's great height; he was the second tallest elf he laid eyes on, beside Sig. Though, he did remember that one of the main details of the descriptions many of the generals of the Havenite Army used when telling him about the Wastelanders were their towering heights. When Jak first gazed at the youngest Spargan prince back in that room, he thought that the icy cerulean eyes were alluring and attractive yet there was something familiar about them. When Torn first spoke (though Jak could not understand him) his raspy voice captivated him, and was as equally as alluring. Jak found the Wastelander to be handsome in a very rugged and dangerous way—

'Whoa! Jak exclaimed mentally, stunned at this physical attraction to one of the same-sex, a Wastelander, and the very one who killed many poor yet anonymous people. 'What the hell is wrong with—'

But before Jak could finish his train of thoughts, Torn already settled himself on his expansive bed, sitting very close to Jak. Since Torn was a couple inches taller than Jak, his breath gliding and barely kissed the blond locks of the Prince of Haven. The Wastelander's hand slowly crept behind the Havenite and grabbed the hilt of the dagger that lied behind him. Torn carefully hurled the dagger in some direction, and have collide into the surface of the wall beside the door.

Feeling suddenly uncomfortable with lack of personal space and the disturbing and dark gaze of Spargus' youngest Prince's eyes, Jak crawled away from him, but to only end up with his back softly colliding with the surface of the headboard. However, Jak continued to look the half-Metal Head male in his eyes that were ignited by some emotion that was foreign to him.

Despite his heart thumping furiously and tightening at the same time, the Northerner Prince question, making sure his voice did not sound like it had a tint of uneasiness and his eyes narrowed. "What the hell you want with me?"

Torn seemed to be a taken back by the question. At the moment, Jak felt a wave of pride at catching the warrior off guard until he heard Torn's raspy and captivating voice bark with laughter. Quickly, Jak's heart plummet with the heavy weight of dissatisfaction and the apprehension he felt before returned with a vengeance.

The laughs soon receded and were reduced to little chuckles and then Torn stopped. He, without warning, slammed his hand on the bed, causing Jak to jump up a bit due to the vibrations caused by the slam.

Torn asked, his eyes darker than before and tracing Jak's form, "Are you really that much of a fuckin' dumb blond?"

A great surge of anger ran its course throughout Jak's body. If there was anything Jak hated greatly in the world was being stereotyped with the usual insults and presumed images that came along being a blond. His fingers and thumbs quickly formed into a fist, but Jak did not throw any punch at the Prince of Spargus, as he knew there was no point. Instead he settled to glare at him and picture in his mind Torn being set on fire, or something much less merciful than that.

Torn leaned closer and bent his head in order to make his lips and Jak's only a few centimeters apart. "You're in my room, sitting on my bed, wearing something that does little to the imagination…"

Torn used a surprisingly graceful gesture with his hand to indicate Jak's current physical state. A deep blue kilt flattered and hugged Jak's slim hips and complemented yet competed with his eyes. Thick armbands carved from silver, hugged both of biceps, silver bracelets ornamented his slender ankles, and one, small silver-plated decorated his left ear's lobe.

"Not that it bothers me, " Torn continued, his intonation now heavier and full of the Wastelander culture, desire and seduction. "In fact, it does a lot for…me…"

Once Jak swiftly caught the meaning of the innuendo, a slight flush of pale red spread over Jak's cheeks. However, then when Torn roughly pressed his lips on Jak's, he pushed the Prince of Haven and held him down to his bed.

At first, Jak remembered all of his morals that forced their way to the front of his mind and was reminded that this was a Wastelander and most likely a warrior, a warrior that held the responsibility along with many other Wastelander warriors of destroying unsuspecting sister villages to Haven City. His hands made their way to Torn's shoulders, shoving with all the strength Jak could be permitted due to his position. Nonetheless, it was vain, as one would say, as Torn pulled away only to grab both Jak's wrists and place them at both sides of his head and went back to kissing the blond.

The kiss was full of passion and enough force along with the heavy weight of astonishment that froze Jak to the spot. Slowly, the violent assaults from Torn's lips diminished and began in the languid yet earthy massages that sent electrical shocks to Jak's member. This caused Jak's lips to slacken and allow the Wastelanders' waiting tongue to enter.

The battle inside Jak's mouth was fierce and neither tongue wanted to give up in the fight for dominance. Alas, in the end, the Havenite's tongue was diminished and the Wastelander's was given permission to taste the sweet and exotic flavor of the blond' mouth's crevasse.

Torn's hands did not linger on the grip of Jak's wrists for long. While one still held the pale wrists together, the Wastelander Prince's swarthy hand glided in a slow pace to the pale well-toned chest and expertly and harshly pinched one of Jak's two rosy nipples. This caused Jak to, much to his surprise and Torn's amusement, to yelp in Torn's mouth.

Spargus' youngest prince (with great reluctance) from Jak's soft lips in order to gaze down at his slave, devouring the delicious sight that beheld him. His golden locks creating a sea of tangled and brilliant gold mixed with green, slightly swollen and darker pretty lips that were opened in order to catch his breath. Glaring yet sparkling cerulean eyes shooting defiant knives at Torn, which did little to intimidate him, but greatly spur on his arousal. Of course, last but never least, a slim and lean body writhing and moving that displayed attempt to slow down rapidly beating heart that threaten to pump its way out of Jak's chest, to gain oxygen, and dissipate the sexual confusion that dwelled within the younger man.

One icy blue eye moved in a manner of an eyebrow being raised on Torn's face. The Wastelander's attractive lips curved into an annoyingly smug smirk that also contained enough charm and seduction dangerous enough to tear even the most sane man's heart to pieces. Torn took a quick down at Jak's lower body, and was beyond please to see a slight tent growing beneath the boy's blue kilt.

The darker man let a breath that resembled a chuckle and threw a seductive and taunting grin. "Doin' fine down there?" He indicated by his hand teasingly ghosting above the Havenite's erection. Though it floated only a few inches away from Jak's cock, such close contact wrung a gasp from him and his member became more harder.

Haven's prince slanted his eyes so much at Torn that they were close to becoming slits of fiery blue. He attempted to struggle once more in order to release his wrists from Torn's strong grip and wrap his hands around the Wastelander's throat. Instead, Torn did not waver and accidentally Jak made one slow roll of his hips and ground them into Torn's which caused Torn to moan in satisfaction and pleasure, while Jak's erection now was slowing teetering on the edge of serious hardness and pain. Thankfully, in his case, the blond Prince managed to suppress an oncoming groan and grounded out with such delightful vehemence, "_Fuck you,_"

Torn only chuckled at the curse, and patted his new slave's cheek in a parody of affection. "Sorry, I hate to love to burst your bubble, but I'm not the type to be all submissive and lie on my back. But I won't definitely mind having you on your back…oh," Torn glanced at Jak's current position and his grin now morphed into something that oozed his thoughts, which did not take a JetBoard scientist to figure out that they were born of lust and slight animalistic desire.

"You'll pay for this," Jak said, his eyes now dark with violent threat.

"Oh no, burn all fires across Spargus City, warn everyone and hide all the children, the Havenite Army is coming and is trying to retrieve their Princes and Princess that they do not know are in danger _or_ know that they are in the Wasteland." Torn let another chuckle. "I'm sure I will," Torn indifferently and dismissively replied. His eyes made darting glances towards Jak's wrists that were bond together by his hand. "You think you can be a smart blond and stay still?"

Jak gnashed his teeth so hard together that he would have felt the sting of pain and noticed that Torn's hand released his limbs, if his mind weren't so clouded in indignation and anger. "What makes you think I won't grab a knife and slit your throat and escape as soon as you lift a finger off me?"

"Because one: the door is locked and you'll be dead before you even hit the floor, two: even if you do manage to get outside that door (unlikely), you'll run into one of guards and wouldn't stand a chance, three: I doubt that you know how to use a knife anyway, and five to one-hundred, are: you wouldn't fuckin' dare."

Jak first scoffed and then stuck his chin out challengingly and arrogantly at Torn. "Fuckin' try me,"

For some odd reason, Torn sat back on his heels, studying Jak's form with a satisfied little smirk. "Don't need to."

'Don't need to…what the hell?' Jak's eyebrows furrowed in tremendous puzzlement as the words echoed in his mind. Then he moved and felt a tight pressure on his wrists.

What the _hell_…?

Torn shrugged as though everything did not bother him and just bounced off him. "I'm sort of into bondage, just a little reference for the future."

The Havenite Prince's cerulean orbs glowed with an almost inhuman ire yet they did little to terrify smirking Wastelander Prince. Through grounded teeth, Jak snarled, "You fuckin' _bastard, _"

Torn sighed in mock happiness and leaned down to play with torn scarf that now took its place trapping Jak's wrists together once again. Then Torn, with hands quick as the wind, tugged the kilt that obstructed any view of the lower half of Jak's gorgeous body. His index finger skipped a little around the slit of the swollen penis, causing the Havenite to jump and he cried out and little drops of precum leaked out.

Torn seemed very delighted with the result his action brought, and continued to run his finger up and down Jak's length while his other hand tweaked a nipple, taking in the fact that Jak was biting his bottom lip to probably prevent a moan. "Seems like the pure, virginal Prince Jak isn't so pure, but still a virgin. But don't worry I'll take care of that."

Before the blond elf could express disapproval, Torn started to strip himself of his tight blue uniform. This somewhat awed and amused Jak as when he first laid eyes on Torn, he thought the outfit was actually painted on him. It also amazed Jak that Torn managed to be rid of his outfit quickly, yet he would not be surprised that he probably practiced with others before he gained an expertise in taking such tight clothes off.

However, Jak's eyes raked over Torn's lean and toned muscles that, like his face, had every inch was decorated in tribal tattoos. Once again, Torn's anatomy fascinated Jak somewhat as he only perceived that the only part of Torn's body that was tattooed was his face, and Jak began to speculate in the back of his mind if the designs held any cultural significance.

Soon, Jak's contemplation came to an abrupt stop when the Spargan warrior moved towards his slave's ear, blowing his hot breath at the tip, before taking it into his mouth and nibbling on it for a little bit, until Jak was writhing wildly beneath him, whimpers escaping his throat as he still had his teeth sinking into his bottom lip so much that blood began to trickle down his chin.

"I'm guessing that's your hot spot, huh?" Torn whispered in Jak's ear before licking the lobe and the pretty sighs of pleasure and need emerged from his mouth. Torn's lips and tongue traveled to Jak's neck where they lingered for a bit before Torn sank his sharp teeth into it.

Jak cried in pain and pleasure, tears building behind his eyes as his dick jumped, tightened and hardened at the same time. His fingers flexed and his nails bit into the flesh of his hands and ached to grip the Wastelander's shoulders, his hips started to make little movements in order to receive any contact to his aching member, but unfortunately, Torn pinned his hips in order to obstruct any more movement.

"Don't worry. I'll get you there," The preoccupied Wastelander mumbled into Jak's chest, before lapping skilled tongue around one already hard rosy pebble of nipple before working it into his mouth and with his teeth. Torn relished in the sounds he drew from Jak, they were just as delicious and beautiful as his new concubine, and already they were enough to cause Torn to come right on the spot.

Instead, he gripped his own erection prevent any release, but he quickened his mouth's pace and once he finished Jak's other nipple, he planted quick kisses on Jak's body as he traveled further down and twirled his tongue around in Jak's navel, wringing more screams from the blond and had him basically shaking rather violently. Then Torn lifted his head and went between Jak's legs and nipped at Jak's thighs while pushing his knees apart.

All of a sudden, Torn's elongated ears flattened back when he thought he heard a small sound. He peered up at Jak who he was staring at him with those blue eyes of his wide and full of surprise and his mouth tightly shut.

Torn smirked, once again. "Not much of a beggar, are you?"

As a response to the Wastelander's taunt, Jak shot an angry look at him, but his mouth remained unopened.

Torn made an 'tsk' sound, and smacked both of Jak's inner thighs to spread them further apart. Jak hissed at the sudden two stings and the glimmering fires within his eyes burned more with ire and desire as they glanced down at Torn. The Spargan in reply to such a heated gaze was licking his lips and shrugging his shoulders in that irritating, nonchalant and sexy way that basically was saying 'Yeah, I know I'm a bastard, what you gonna do?' before, without a warning, he took the tip of Jak's member into his mouth.

"_AAAAH_!" Jak screeched as he arched his back so much, he almost lifted himself up in the air and threw Torn off him and off the bed. When the blond Prince took a gander of Torn, he was now sitting on the floor, naked, frustrated, lost his animal-like grace and narrowing his eyes at the light-haired elf, displaying his irritation, but no anger. Jak would have laughed his ass off at the sight, if Torn's throat did not rumble with an animal-like growl and suddenly pounced on him.

Jak did not expect the sudden crash of weight upon him and wheezed in slight discomfort and surprise. When Torn shoved his head to the side in order to scatter more kisses and nips on his neck, Jak grunted in at the little pang of pain, but there was no harm done.

The redheaded Prince's breath was rough and fluttering against the blond's pointed ear as he whispered, with such sexuality and craving poured into his raspy and Wastelander-toned voice, "So, you are gonna beg or do I have to make you?"

Jak mustered all the control within in his body and snap his head in order to scowl at the Prince of Spargus that was currently beaming at him with that consistent smugness. He said simply and defiantly, "No."

One shrug of the Wastelander's tanned shoulders warned, 'Alright, you asked for it,' to Jak and once again, without any word of caution, took Jak's wet tip into his scorching mouth and circling the tip with his dexterous tongue and occasionally dipping it in the slit and blowing on the tip before going back to sucking it.

Jak's tanned hands wildly jerked and twitched despite their restraints. His teeth forcefully sank into the delicate flesh of his poor bottom lip to prevent a series of deep moans and give in to the Wastelander's request. Jak's remorseless teeth caused his lip to split and the tiny stream of blood thickened a little more and traveled down the shaved chin in which his goatee used to be. His cerulean irises were now hidden behind his tightly shut lids, refusing to meet with the cold blue eyes that gleamed with such fiery passion and self-satisfaction.

Torn, on the other hand, was savoring the distressed expression on his slave's exquisite features. From the drops of perspiration slowly sliding down the slightly golden chest to the aureate halo of locks glimmering against the immaculate white sheets. Fuck, this new concubine is so beautiful and made his blood boil and soar with limitless lust and desire he had not felt in years. He is definitely nothing like the miscellaneous bodies of the many whores and concubines given to him before that quivered and sobbed with fear and denial.

As one hand was squeezing Jak's hip, the other traveled to the blond's tongue and mouth-worshipped length and traced one of the many prominent veins, causing the younger man to buck once more and an involuntary groan managed to escape from the tightly shut lips. As soon as Torn sucked harder, and felt that Jak's hip made a familiar twitch, it was signal that the blond elf's orgasm was quickly approaching. Not wanting the other prince to have release, the Wastelander royal quickly pulled his lips off the cock with a little 'pop' and chuckled a little at the fact that Jak still mentally protested to open those cerulean orbs of his. Torn reached over the form beneath him in order to free the paler wrists from the imprisonment.

When Jak felt less pressure on his abused wrists, he cracked open one eye slightly to peer at the limbs that were placed above his head. As it was confirmed that his wrist were free, he brought them down and gingerly massaged each one in order to alleviate the discomfort from post-bondage. Paying too much attention to his wrists, Jak fail to see Torn leave the bed for a moment and returned with tossing a bottle of lubricant up and down and side-to-side.

The redheaded elf coated his fingers with the sweet-smelling and sticky liquid until he noted with approval that they were completely drenched. His fingers were slow but steady to their destination and when they finally did, When Jak suddenly felt cold and slippery fingers near his hole, he yelped and attempted to crawl off the bed until Torn seized one of his ankles and trapped the other one with his knee. Torn looked at Jak, his blue eyes burning with icy flames of desire and irritation, "Just stay still and relax."

Relax? How the fuck was he supposed to relax? Jak thought, indignation and anger searing his mind, when there was f-- Oh, Precursors!

The persistent yet patient fingers prodded the tight ring of muscle and on occasion, one shallowly slipped in, rendering another gasp from the golden-haired young man. One finger roughly and rudely shoved itself in. Oh, did not hurt, it fucking _burned_. Jak shrieked as he felt as though his insides being licked by angry flames by the unexpected intrusion. As the finger persisted to go deeper, the painful burning sensation increased twofold and had the Prince of Haven City whimpering like a broken creature.

Torn ('the _bastard_' Jak fumed) on the other hand, felt the incredible warmth and tightness of Jak and relished the expression on his Havenite's countenance. The Wastelander had to grit his teeth to avoid coming right on the spot. For a moment, Torn's icy eyes flickered to a temporary hue of fiery yellow before fading to blue again. His erection was slowly crossing lines of being unbearable and painful. However, he refused to give in to his carnal need and ram into his slave, he had to be patient and prefer to hear cries of pleasure than fear and pain. So, the finger begin to twist, and make any possible little movement inside Jak, to find that familiar spot that Torn was well-acquainted with because of the previous male lovers he had.

While Torn's finger was buried and occupied, his skilled tongue continually tapped the dripping crown of Jak's cock and his mouth made little blows of warm air to kiss it. Finally, until the one digit brush against the sought out spot and Jak gasped in shock and pleasure; his vision now clouded by stars.

Thankfully and unfortunately, Torn caught wind of that little sound and threw Jak another victorious smirk before adding another finger. Jak shuddered, his breathing sounding a little abnormal, but made no sounds of pain. Well, there was that burn again, but now it was dull and mingled with pleasure that continued to swell as the fingers within him, repeatedly scissors in and out, corkscrews, twists and working his prostate.

All of a sudden, Jak did the unthinkable. He said in a pleading, almost purring, voice, "Fuck me. Want you...p...ple..."

When the Prince of Haven caught the mischievous gleam and smile on Torn's face, he could almost predict Torn's teasing tone. "Sorry, didn't catch that. I thought you're not a beggar. You want me to _what_?" and purposefully twisted his fingers and Jak quietly moaned.

Once again, that adorable and sexy glare worked its way back onto the blond's face as he spoke through gritted teeth, "Fuck you..."

Torn glanced down at his buried fingers and his grin grew a wicked edge as he slowly began to withdrew them from Jak's heat, basking at the look of sexual despair that fluttered across the younger man's handsome face. "Well, I'm not the one has fingers deep in my ass."

Jak chose to disregard the comment and purposefully tightened his inner muscles around Torn's fingers and wore a smile of triumph as he saw the Wastelander Prince's eyes widened a fraction and morph a hue darker.

Torn kissed all of his coherent thoughts and control good-bye and removed his knee off and hand off of Jak's ankles and pushed Jak's legs wide open for display and claiming. Feeling his mouth going dry at sight, Torn licked his lips before tightly gripping the blond's slim hips and ramming into Jak.

Jak screams at the intense sensation of pain. However, it is temporary as Torn's member is practically unsheathed except his crown that Jak's tight ring of muscle refuses to let go, and hits his prostate with accuracy as he re-enters with perfect accuracy. The pain then washes out and transforms into white-hot pleasure.

Torn's swarthy and large hand slowly travels between the two sweating and rapidly moving bodies in order to grab Jak's sex. Jak's breath is caught in his throat as he feels the limb beginning to stroke him in a slow pace that begins to pick up speed.

Torn sinks his razor-sharp teeth into one of his slave's dark and dusty pink nipples, ignoring an escaped gasp of pain from his mouth, in order to refrain any screams erupting his throat. Gods, Jak was absolutely everything that made Torn's blood brew with scorching passion and his body feel as hot as the hottest afternoon in the Wasteland. He was _so_ tight, hot, and wet.

The icy cerulean eyes began to flutter and flashed that dangerous and intense hue of yellow as he stared at squirming form beneath him, tracing every nuance in the blond's facial features. From his tightly closed eyes to the lips set in a pleasing orgasmic smile. These little details and the clenching tightness wrapped around him, turned Torn on even more and added more to the fire of desire and lust. His throat thundered as a deep growl was taking form from within and then Torn snarls as he plants little bites on Jak's collarbone as he continued to mercilessly pound into his new mate and his hand's rhythm matching with that of his thrusts.

The Spargan's mouth move upwards towards a pale lobe and presses against it, until teeth come in and nibbles on it. Torn said in a panting voice, "_Carajo_..._eres tan apretado_...(7)"

Even when most of Jak's mind was reduced to sending a command to his legs to wrap themselves around Torn's lean waist and his nails to harshly bite into the broad shoulders, Jak still had enough to say between the force of the thrusts, "Don't. Fucking. Understand. Y-y-you...!"

Torn did not respond Jak's comment, but to the Havenite feet that seemed to knead his ass. The little action spurred Torn deeper into the blond's depths and to thrust harder and faster. That and his hand working now a fast and furious pace on Jak's sex, quickly brings both Jak's and his visions to become blurry and unclear. The current war that continued to cause more blood to shed and the nations and races that still disputed was long driven out of their minds and replaced by thoughts of lust and soul-shattering gratification that soon is at hand as Torn pounded his way into Jak.

Finally, like a Zoomer at full-speed without a driver, the two princes come hard and fast, as though an explosion erupted within their bodies. Jak's breath becomes heavier and uneven and his body stiffens as his come spurts out and completely drenches Torn's hand and both of their chests.

Feeling the muscles around him constrict even more and seeing Jak's face etched in ecstasy sends Torn over the edge. He feels the tingling wave stirring in his thighs pass over to his spine and begins to boil as it travels up and suddenly erupts. Brilliant white light burst violently behind his eyes. Torn throws his back, and pitilessly slams into the body beneath him and fills the insides of his slave with his scalding seed until he is empty.

As they kissed again, the moans that formed from the back of the other's throat rumble in the other partner's mouth. Once again, their tongues are locked into a battle of dominance that both are stubborn to give up, until weariness and post-orgasmic bliss slows and stops the kisses and causes Torn to pull out of Jak who collapses on the bed. Torn falls completely on top of him, both glued to one another because of Jak's slowly drying come.

Torn's hand casually plays with Jak's locks, his eyes now sated and weary from the encounter yet he growls, his voice shows possessiveness. "_Ahora, eres mío_...(8)" It is then Torn's eyelids fluttered shut.

Jak, now feeling sleep slowly slipping him into her embrace yawned, "I still don't know what the hell you're trying to say..."

--

The needle went under, when the other fingers squeezed the colorful fabric as one brown digit went under, the silver slit appeared shot through once again. Then with one last tug the fabric was complete.

Glowing golden eyes glimmered yet no emotion was held within them as they stared up at the standing maiden with white locks. "The quilt is done." declared the darker-skinned maiden with a croaking voice, assurance and self-satisfaction obvious.

"It is done for _now_." countered the fair-haired lass whose alteration sounded like a young lass as she gazed at her sister and her hands occupied with wrapping the stem of one flower of the other, attempting to finish the flower necklace.

"Aye, you are right Anyelah. When shall I meet thee again?" The yellow-eyed woman nodded as she noticed the branches of the trees that surrounded them began to fluctuate under the gentle touches of the wind.

"Are we not what we are, my dear sister Cassandra? You know where to meet me, but prepare yourself as shall I. The times of light along with those of black wings are coming fast on their wings..."

"Hush now sister," Cassandra commanded. "I hear something."

All of a sudden, small sounds began to lightly thunder in the silent clearing. With every moment, the sounds gained more volume and were easier to identify.

"Drums…" Anyelah murmured.

The pointy ears of the two sisters perked a bit more as the steady and medium paced tempo of the drums grew louder and the wind's caresses against the trees' branches became more forceful.

Cassandra's eyes narrowed and her lovely tanned face etched in contemplation until she did something that uncharacteristically like her and it daunted Anyelah a lot; her lips curled in pleased smile.

"By the manner of the rhythm of those drums, methinks, the goddess Meeka doth comes."

End of Chapter 4

Author's Notes:

(1) Okay, _Las Cabezachapas_ is Spanish for 'The Metal Heads'. I found this out when I changed the language options in Jak 2 to Spanish and when the characters were speaking Spanish and that's what they called the Metal Heads.

(2)_¡Basta! _is Spanish for 'Enough!' and also with Spanish speakers, to fully express that they had 'enough', they cross one arm over the other and their palms are facing down.

(3) Okay, this is just the word 'common' but spelled differently. Any who, Comyn, in my story, is a language which is gonna be sort like English with the Wastelanders and the other people, like all of them can speak it and they're on a _common _ground.

(4) 'Dunner' is a word I made up and comes from the word 'dun', which means tanned or dark. So I decided to classify Sig from a race of dark people.

(5) Savantian is a word I made up and is from the word 'savant', which is another word for sage. So you can guess that the Havenites language probably means 'from the sage...'

(6) _Halcón_ is Spanish for 'Falcon' and the other guy is saying, "Just take one little peek", in Spanish.

(7) Spanish for "Shit...you're so tight..."

(8) Spanish for "Now, you're mine."

Okay folks, I'm sorry for the long delay, but I was suffering from severe writer's block and having difficulty writing and wondering how the Jak characters would act in a certain situation. Anyway, thank you for being patient, and please R&R. Peace.


	6. Chp 5: From Different Walks of Life

Hiya folks. I'm back with another chapter and I hope that you all enjoyed the last one. I hope it was good, considering it was my first time writing a sex scene. Anyway, like I said before, and I will say again. I. Do. Not. Own. Anything. With the exception of my OOCs, some of the creatures, food (well, most of the food belongs to other cultures) and other things that you know were not in the Jak series. Also, the food mentioned here are from actual countries.

But enough with my rambling, I leave you to your reading.

Chapter Five: From Different Walks of Life

The radiant rays of the Wasteland sun cruelly painted every surface and possession, new and old in Torn's chamber. It even had summoned enough boldness to veil the sleeping face of the Wastelander's Prince newest asset: Prince Jak of Haven City.

A wash of different hues of red fluttered across the concealed cerulean eyes. However, Jak refused to yield, that is until the colors proved to be very tenacious and began to cancel out the blackness that clouded Jak's eyes. It was then Jak reluctantly and slowly opened his eyes…

And stared up at a ceiling that was of golden-beige marble, not the familiar, shiny hue of silver metal ceiling of his room that gleamed and Jak grew accustomed to staring at ever since he was a child. His orbs traced the swirling and arabesque designs that centered themselves in every square made by four pieces of tile.

The green eyebrows scrunched at the strange ceiling. Maybe Uncle Samos decided to remodel his bedroom while he was asleep. However, then rebuked himself for being so silly and believing that that hired professionals could work quietly while he slept and worked in a fast pace as well. So, Jak's eyebrows furrowed even more as try to remember what happen…

Until he his gaze traced more details of the current chambers he was residing in at the moment. His eyes greatly expanded and then all the memories came in a flash as he looked at the other side of the bed he was resting in. Though the sheets were disheveled and had no one lying under them, Jak knew there was someone resting beside him and was very well with him that night.

Jak remembered the hot kisses, a throaty and enticing voice groaning in Río, while a hard length was driving hard…

'That's it, I'm outta here,' Jak thought, as the regret and shame began to settled themselves comfortably in his mind and blot out any other thoughts that could reasoned and canceled the two emotions out. Yes, what happened was incredible and stupendous, but that little voice in Jak's head kept on attacking him along with the collaboration of the bellowing voices of the Havenite prophets that clamored in the city air of the grave consequences of the sin of homosexuality and condemning those who practice it with the strongest conviction. Then when the place that marked the day of his capture, the Isle of Helix, returned to his mind with a vengeance, the unforgettable images and sounds came as well. Sig's attempt to shove him, Keira and Daxter to safety that immediately plummeted and was marked as a failure. The Krimzon Guards' cries of pain, the Wastelanders' shouts of victory and the unforgettable sounds of swords and bullets kissing flesh echoed in his mind. Far as he is concerned there was no need for him to be constantly lying with a Wastelander when they caused so much trouble for his island.

He also remembered that his sibling, Daxter and his cousin, Keira could be in the hands of possible danger. Now another reason for escape burned in his mind: to search for his relatives and get the hell out of this cursed city and desert.

When Jak sat up, a violent wave of pain charged through his back. However, because of the determination that now settled in his mind, he did not wish to fall back on the bed lying with the very man that may have intentions to dispose of him, his cousin and his brother as soon as he wakes. So, the blond-haired elf did the best he could to disregard the terrible ache in his lower back and rear, wincing slightly as he got to his feet and sent a prayer to the Precursors to curse the man he lied with, wherever he was. It _was_ his fault that Jak had pain in his lower extremities anyway.

He quickly scanned the room for his clothes, which turned out to be scattered a couple of meters away from the side of the bed. A smile of satisfaction was quickly plastered on Jak's face, silently thanking the Precursors for being merciful on him. He began to walk towards his clothes, after all, there was no need to run and cause such ruckus, this had to be quiet otherwise he was doomed. In a couple of minutes he was dressed and was walking his way towards the door—

The door was swung aside. Jak's body stiffened and was frozen to the spot. He held his breath, and mentally invocated to the Precursors that it was not red-haired male from last night. He did not fear him, it was because no strategies could quickly formulate in his mind on how to escape the towering elf.

Thankfully, it was not the red-haired Wastelander, but another one. However, it was a young man that appeared to be the lifespan of twenty-one and was probably a servant as Jak observed his hands which held a tray laden with fruit and a pitcher. His skin-pigmentation was the brilliant color of bronze; one or two shades darker than the red-haired male. Long, straight, and lustrous ebony locks were pulled into a ponytail that trailed to his small waist. His body structure was very much like Jak's; if not a little bit skinnier.

The boy regarded the North Prince with cool and beautiful cinnamon eyes. Though, the man's appearance was not intimidating and very pleasing to the eye, Jak could not help but feel a surge of distrust of the male. He was a Wastelander after all, and all his experiences he had with the desert folk were unpleasant or confusing as far as he could remember. So, his first instinct was to grab the boy by his arm and shove him against the wall. The fruit scatter themselves across the floor, and pitcher fell with a loud bang and bluish liquid was slowly spreading towards the back of Jak's feet.

He snarled, "You look like a reasonably smart man. I want information, " the young man's eyes now were lit with a challenge, as though he was not frightened. "how the hell do I get out of here?"

The boy replied: "First of all, Havenite," he shoved the blond elf off of him. His voice contained a thick coat of the Wasteland in it and was strangely light it was not deep as male's voice should be yet it was not effeminate. The young man's angered features spoke for him. "Hands off, you do not know who you are dealing with, I can have you hanged if you do not watch yourself."

Jak scoffed and eyed the boy up and down. He was barely Jak's height (and Jak was shorter than a lot of people) and _he_ was the one making threats?

"You can scoff all you want, I can have my master come here and take care of you. But luckily for you, I don't have the heart to do that. And surely you don't really mean to escape now, do you?" the boy walked past him and kneeled down to pick up the fruit. "You don't look that much of a dumb blond."

Jak pinched the bridge of his nose and gnashed his teeth together to prevent any words from coming out. He was really getting irritated with the Wastelanders' comments on his hair color. "No, I don't really mean to escape. I was going to ask you where to point me to the flower shop so I decorate the damn place to make it a bit more cozy for me."

The young man stuck his tongue out as he ripped some part of his loose pants to wipe up the spill. "Look…you need to understand that no slave has ever—_ever_— escaped from the Spargus, much less the palace and lived to tell the tale."

"Well, then I got a couple of surprises for the people here then, and I will be the first."

The young man now took his turn to scoff. "Yeah, right. You mean the first that wasn't killed at night and lived the morning after."

Now confusion was etched on Jak's face. "What do you mean by that?"

The young man was finished in taking care of the little mess. Once he had the fruit and pitcher on the tray and set in on the dresser, He turned to Jak, crossing his lean arms, his eyebrow arched. "You didn't know you were facing King Kor and his children?"

Jak's eyes slanted in suspicion. The boy purposefully switched subjects, but lucky for him Jak was not going bring it to his attention for now. He shook his head. "No, I thought he was some kind of chief or something of some tribe and his advisors or something."

The young man's eyebrow arched more. "Tribe chief? Advisors? Yes, we're separated in tribes, but our tribes are bigger than the Playner tribes, so we don't have chiefs, we have at least Kings or Queens or both and we have cities. Wait—you _really_ didn't know what the Spargan Royals look like?"

"I've never bothered to put anything together," Jak answered simply with a shrug as he took a seat on the edge of the bed.

"So, I'm assuming you don't know who was the man that you had sex with last night. By the way, I'm Asante Vega." The Wastelander indicated a hand to him and sat on the floor in front of Jak.

Jak's green eyebrows furrowed in confusion as his cheeks burned red. "No. And why would you introduce yourself to me?"

Asante gave Jak an attractive smirk. "Because I heard from the Havenite servants that your people have some philosophy about you killing your enemies with kindness. Another reason is because I have a feeling you're going to be here for a while, so you might as well know who I am. Also, despite your horrible first impressions, I feel you growing on me."

Jak rolled his eyes. "I'm so touched."

"You better well damn be," Asante commented then he let a yawn that he quickly stifled. " So, Prince Jak, you probably wondering who was the mysterious man you spent the wonderful night with and whose chambers you're in, correct?"

Jak's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "How did you…?"

"Know who you are and what happened? I heard from my master, Kaylenn about you. In fact, word travel quickly about you and what a little doll you are. And yes, the very one with jet-black hair and red-eyes that lead you to the banqueting hall that night is Kaylenn." Asante quickly responded as he predicted Jak's question and the next one that followed. "Also, the man was Torn and," he swept his arms out indicating the room, "this is his bed chambers."

The blond-haired male felt a though his heart once again was prepared to jump out of his chest, as well as his orbs to pop out of their sockets and the whole world to be turn upside down.

Asante took notice of the distress of that was written on the paler one's countenance. His hand stretched towards Jak's shoulder, but quickly put it down, as he believed his words would have more an affect. "Come on, it can't be bad. From what I heard, Torn is quite the animal in bed."

The hue of Jak's cheeks became even redder, however his mouth remained closed as his teeth began to nibble on his trembling bottom lip.

"Well, I know he doesn't have much of a good rep, but look at this. At least you weren't given to Erol to be his slave…"

"What? _SLAVE?_" Jak jumped up from his seat. Asante immediately stood up. Jak's eyes now were shiny with irate blue flames.

Asante backed away in case the Havenite decided to become unpredictable and knock his lights out.

Jak's voice now was reduced to a growl. "You mean to tell me, I was given away like a piece of furniture to be somebody's fucktoy?"

"Umm…yea." Asante scratched the back of his hair to fight off the nervousness pulsating throughout his body. He turned away from Jak and placed a finger on his lips in a considering manner. "Well, actually you would be more like a concubine or called a bed slave if someone wants to be polite. If someone wanted to be mean, and trust they're mean as they come, in the Wasteland and especially Spargus, then they would have called you something worse than 'fucktoy'." Asante said.

Jak stood therefore a moment, his blue eyes ready to blow Asante into smithereens. His fists twitched at his sides. His breath was quickly coming out of his mouth in haggard and rough pants until finally he declared: 'I'm gonna kill'em." With that proclamation hanging in the air, he was about to storm out of the room until Asante grabbed him by the shoulder.

"You mean you're going to _try_ to kill them, but you won't. You'll try to reason with them, but they won't. Instead you'll be killed right on the spot and trust me, you don't wanna mess with Kor's kids, especially Torn. He will kill you right on the spot and will kill you in the worst way possible. Please, don't repeat many of the other slaves' mistakes. 'Sides, yes it is unfair that you and your cousin—"

"Keira was given away too?" Jak now was struggling as much as he could to get out of Asante's grip.

"Yes—to Ashelin. And before you ask, I heard your brother was placed in the dungeon."

Jak's throat rumbled as another growl escaped and his struggles became more frantic and stronger.

Asante's voice now was gone from sounding patient to sounding very strained and agitated. "As I was saying, yes, it is unfair that both of you were given away like that, but consider yourself lucky. From what I hear and see, Ashelin and Torn are nicer compared to Erol and others when it comes to the treatment of slaves. If you don't anger Torn too badly, then he won't hit you or resort to some cruel punishment. And believe me, he can dish out some mean punishments. And also, at least you were born into royalty and later introduced to slavery…" Now Asante's voice became soft yet still strained, but with a different emotion. "I wasn't. I was born into slavery, a family of slaves and a life of poverty."

"But," Asante trailed, his grip lightening up and finally letting go. "I was lucky, Kaylenn treats me decently…"

"But, how could he treat you right? Isn't he—"

"Yes, I am aware of his reputation. 'The Shadow Demon.'Yes, he is a ferocious, merciless and mighty warrior, but there is a side of him you never could picture…" Suddenly, a reminiscent smile slowly curled Asante's lips. "Anyway, my intention was to bring you breakfast and Torn sent me here to tell you his rules, but I'll sum up the ground rules for you."

Jak sighed then took a seat once again on the bed. He felt a dip in the bed and turned to find Asante sitting next to him. Jak waved his finger in a summoning motion, "Shoot away, it'll probably help me in the future."

"'Kay, from what I remember, Torn is considerably nicer than Erol when it comes to slaves though, Ashelin's still the nicest out of the three. But when Torn was younger, he was a typical Wastelander brute. You couldn't give him one slave to him and leave them alone for a night, 'cause the next day they end up dead, usually found choked to death."

Jak sarcastically replied, "Ooo, sounds likes he can be Person of the Week with his 'charm.'"

Asante nodded in agreement. "Yep, and he was even more 'charming', if you even manage to even annoy him, he'll nearly beat you to death. There was actually one time, King Kor actually forbidden him to have a slave for a year when he was sixteen. It was getting too crazy, thankfully for a while he calmed down. Anyway, like I said before, don't annoy him or piss him off. Listen to him and if he tells you to stand on your head and sing, you'd better, you can talk back to him a little, but don't overdo it. Another thing is Torn is a very jealous and possessive person, so don't even think 'bout fucking anyone else, matter of fact don't even spare a glance at any person that is attractive, 'cause that will definitely make his blood boil. If he sees you as his, you are his, no questions about it."

Jak sighed, "'Kay, don't piss him off, obey his every whim, can give him a little sass, don't look, don't touch with anyone. Anything else?"

"Umm…" a thoughtful expression now was settled on Asante's features. He placed a finger on his lips in a contemplative manner until: "Oh yeah, you better like cooking, 'cause you gonna be doin' that a lot. (Jak sighed; he hated cooking) Also, luckily, you have the permission to roam around, however outside the _palacio_ you going to have to cover your face." He noticed the annoyed and disappointed expression on Jak's face. "Sorry, it's the law around here, I'll explain later. Other than that, I told you everything you need to know on how keep the peace in this place."

Jak derided. "You mean, keep myself and siblings alive."

Asante simpered. "That too. Welcome to Spargus and the perks of slavery and enjoy this moment here 'cause your fun moments stop here and won't come back for a while."

--------------

Keira tilted her head to ogle at the red and angry bites that adorned her neck in the large vanity mirror. Her fingers followed the direction in which mark was landed on her neck, while her other hand made an endeavor to straighten her hair that was now disheveled. However, she gave up, and decided to grab a robe a white robe that was set upon the bed.

As she wrapped the garb around her body, a cheerful-faced young woman entered with a tray of a pitcher of juice, fruit, bread, and cheese. Keira, who was now dressed, glanced over her shoulder and the young woman turned to her and threw her a friendly smile as she set the tray on the bed. "'Mornin'."

Keira was very sure her voice was still hoarse from the 'activities' from last night yet that didn't stop her from trying to be polite. "Good morning."

Light green eyes were lit with concern as the young woman stepped closer and asked, "Ar'ya alright miss? Ya don't soun' well."

Keira's cheeks burned and she turned away from the girl. She inwardly and sarcastically thanked Ashelin for being the cause of it. "No, I'm fine, thank you…"

"Vika, Vika Bhaltair, m'lady."

Keira turned her head sharply and her mouth dropped. "Vika? As in _Princess_ Vika of Copseland?"

Vika pleasantly smiled despite the implied and drastic change of her past and now present status of existence. "Tha' one n' only."

Keira blinked disbelievingly at the young woman and quickly took in her appearance. Long, lively, straight and hair of ruby; freckled and pale skin, a scrawny yet feminine body and a very ample chest decked in a lavender billowing peasant top and a matching flowing skirt. However, it was the necklace that decorated Vika's neck that signified her as a royal, which was a thin silver strand with a medium-sized charm of two leaves intertwined by their stems dangling from it.

"H-h-h-h-how…how did you—"

Vika held a hand up to summon the Haven City Princess to cease in speaking. "Ne'er mind tha'. Get dressed and eat, afterwards, I'll tell ya ma story n' what ya need ta know, n' we can begin our chores. If ya lucky, I mighta help ya find yer cousins."

"Chores—"

"Yes, we have chores. Unfortunately, for a slave, even when you're banging tha' master o' mistress, you need to be more versatile n' haveta do more. Now, 'fore ya 'bout ta cry ta me 'bout yer status, let's go 'n discuss it over o'er a nice hot cup o' tea. "

-----------------

An orange and furry hand reached out towards a half-closed eye to rub out the dirt that gathered in the little corner of it. The mouth stretched wide as a yawn emerged and was not bothered to be stifled.

Daxter blinked a couple of times in order to obtain clarity and be rid of the receding darkness in his eye vision.

"Damn, that was one _LOONNNGGG_ nap! How long was I out J—"

All at once, Daxter's nasal senses were assaulted by a combination of horrid aromas, all of which was connected with merciless Death. His hands flew quickly to cover his button nose to prevent anymore of the molecules to invade it. Once when his surroundings were in clear view, he gazed around with dilated eyes. A terrified yet adorable expression was set on his face as he glanced at different pairs of manacles that hung from rafters of a decrepit ceiling to the gray floor that was blanketed in hay that was caked with old blood and to a large and wooden table that laden with a carcass of some anonymous type of an animal.

Slowly removing his hands and forbidding his nose, for a time, to take in anymore of the rancid smell, he called out: "J-j-j-jak? Keira?" Daxter's voice trembled and his lips were constantly twitching as he scurried to a bed to the left. There was a blanket that appeared to have been _cut_ from a fabric of rough texture and it seemed that there was someone under it.

However, when Daxter lifted the sheet off and peered under he almost screamed his lungs out and did a back flip. Instead of seeing his brother's sleeping form, the Ottsel Prince found himself frozen and staring at the ribcage of a bloody and rotten-smelling skeleton that was filled to the brim with bugs and a couple of morats (mouse/rat). Daxter was precautious when he took small steps back, keeping his eyes still on the rodents to make sure they didn't suddenly change objectives and make a snack out of him.

Daxter's furry lips quivered as he backed away into the horrid and cold stoned wall. His back glided down the surface and sat down and crossed his arms around his knees that were pulled up as though to ward off anything or anyone that could pose a possible threat to his survival. Despite the many times he would embellish such tall tales of him being brave and a hero and Jak, the helpless sidekick, Daxter was always under the wings of his brother's protection and he needed Jak. Not just for protection, but emotional stability as well, because they were mostly inseparable ever since they small lads and were the best of friends which brothers could ever be. They remained close with one another ever since their father died and have to turn to one another for comfort and company as loneliness tended to seep in and attempt to do damage.

The Ottsel peered around the dungeon/slaughter-room/torture chamber until his eyes rested on the wooden door in front of him. Through the barred window, little slits if lights slipped through and slightly illuminated the dark dungeon. Miserably, Daxter thought about what might have befallen on his relatives. Were they dead? Were they close enough to death, or possibly at the very minute being tortured by the Wasteland savages? Did a large brute of a Wastelander ravage poor Keira, while Jak was forced to watch as he suffered the malicious scalping method? Finally, Daxter thought, all hope gone and hard acceptance coming in, what were they going to do with him?

Suddenly, the door creaked loudly as it was opened wide and snatched Daxter out of his gloomy thoughts. When his sad eyes settled on the figure that stood in the doorway, they narrowed a bit as his gloomy thoughts slipped here and there in his head and then they widened as they actually _peered_ at the visitor

A crown of radiant aureate locks framed the visitor's pretty pointy face. Sharp and gentle eyes that could be compared and contrast with the blue tranquil North Island waves contained an iridescent glow and burn in the thick veil of darkness. The visitor's pale skin also competed for attention against the soft light of her eyes. A slim yet curvaceous body popped out in a green tunic and a pair of shorts that did little to conceal long and shapely legs.

"Ummm…" Coherent or sensible words did not emerge from Daxter's mouth as it hung wide open as his eyes constantly traced those deadly curves. However, luckily, thoughts still manage to process to Daxter's brain. As he watched the guest draw closer, he took notice of her ample cleavage and discovered her skin was slightly darker. She was not pallid as Daxter used to be before his…accident…she was tanned…

'Hey, wait a minute,' Daxter mentally trailed and then cruel comprehension chilled his bones along with apprehension as he also observed more tiny details about the approaching belle. She possessed the typical Wastelander towering height and her ears were less curved than Havenite ears.

Daxter's reason and logic dashed away and instinct now took the reins of his body. He made a quick dash to the open door, seeing his opportunity for freedom and away from the nightmare. However, his hopes no longer soared and plummeted when he was quickly snatched up from the floor by the blonde Wastelander's hand.

Helpless and quivering with fear, Daxter did what the least he could do to save his hide or at least draw mercy from the pale Spargan native. "Please! Don't kill me! I-I-I have a wife and two kids—"

However, it appeared that the maiden did not regard his words and brought him closer to her face and to study him some more.

"No? Doesn't work?" Daxter was becoming more desperate. "Look, please don't kill me! I'm a virgin! I don't wanna die a virgin! Wait, do you Wastelanders believe in virgin sacrifice?"

Stunning blue eyes increased in size slightly, as though she knew the Ottsel Prince uttered something offensive and then slowly her hand rose up and was making its way towards the shaking creature.

When Daxter witnessed the approaching hand, he immediately closed his eyes. He sent a series of rapid apologies to the Precursors for every wrong thing he done in the past. He wondered if Jak, Keira, Sig and even his Uncle Samos, knew that despite his actions, he did love them to death. Then a saga of possible deeds he could have and would have began to dash in his head so quickly, that it all became a blur of mental babble in his mind.

Daxter let out a laugh. Funny, the last moments of death were portrayed in his mind to be his life flash before his eyes, but the experience he was now countering was like it and not. The thought of the irony and the others immediately fluttered away as he felt an unexpected gentle hand smooth down the stiff strands that stood on the top of his head.

The Ottsel Prince was completely seized by surprise when he felt the gentle gesture and thus was compelled to crack one eye to peer at the Wastelander's surprisingly sympathetic face and her sparkling orbs that held blue lights of apologies.

"You poor thing…" The blonde desert native cooed in a high voice that may have sound annoying to someone else's ears and may apply to infants. However, to Daxter's, they were a great sound of assurance, besides the fact that she was also able to converse in the Comyn language.

Feeling the fear loosen its deadly grip on his heart, Daxter finally gathered some of his courage and asked, "You're not going to kill me?"

The blonde's eyebrows shot up and her eyes popped in surprise and shock. "Kill you? Why would I kill such itty bitty sweet thing like you! I'm not like my cousins and brother…"

"Cous—"

"But that doesn't matter," Daxter's visitor quickly cut him off. "I'm Tess, and I already know who you are."

Daxter's ears immediately drooped and his eyes now bulging and shiny with apprehension. "How?"

"Word about your brother, Prince Jak and your cousin, Princess Keira, traveled very quick around the _palacio_ and my friend Asante told me that he heard from one of his children that you, Prince Daxter was thrown in a dungeon, and of course, everyone's getting a big laugh because everyone knows you're an Ottsel."

Daxter winced a little bit, as Tess began to walk out of the gloomy dungeon and the place that attempted to put a claim on him. "Well, looks like Wastelanders are as big as gossipers as us Havenites."

"You could say that, " Tess answered as she grabbed a torch from the wall in order to blot out some of the darkness that dominated the dungeon-infested area. "Actually, in the _palacio_, we try to keep our dirty laundry inside and not hang it in public, but if does happen to somehow leak out, and word does travel faster in the city, well, there's nothing to do, but hold your head high. Anyway," Tess quickly dismissed the subject, her eyes glowing despite the darkness and focused on the Ottsel in her arms. Daxter quickly felt his heart sprang forth, "are you hungry? Gods know how long you've been in that horrible, nasty place."

Daxter's eyes completely sparkled as the promise of nice and preferably hot food, along with a sexy companion at his beck and call came to mind. Finally, things were going his way. Satisfaction settled into his mind and heart and he felt his old self, reclaiming its authority over his body, especially his eyes as they fastened onto Tess' breasts. His infamous and wolfish smirk was smeared back onto his lips. "I dunno. Whatcha got that's, uh, _hot_…?"

Thankfully, in Daxter's case, Tess fail to recognize his innuendo yet gifted him a beatific smile that clearly had pride sketched in it. "Honey, you basically used the typical adjective to describe a typical _estepario_ (1) meal cooked by yours truly."

As Tess made a turn at another corner, Daxter could, literally, see the light at the end of the tunnel. Though the very tempting image of food burned in his mind and provoked his stomach to snarl in impatience, all he could say to Tess was: "Hey Tess, y'know that whole virgin thing…"

-----------------

Torn was scanning the words of the page of a book while Ashelin was gingerly cleaning one of the many sai that was in her possession and Erol was dangling a cooked and half-eaten leg of a Yakow above a ravenous appearing Metal Head Grunt that was eyeing the piece of meat with such longing and drool dripped from its mouth. Their father summoned all of them, including their cousins to the chamber in order to trade in strategies and examine current reports from the soldiers of the Spargan Army. However neither their sire nor cousins came yet, so order to retain sanity and lose it to boredom, they occupied themselves in the tasks until their relatives arrived.

Fortunately and unfortunately, Kaylenn was the first to enter the chamber and decided to make a grand and annoying entrance. He intentionally forced the door to slam against the wall with a loud bang that made his cousins snap out of their tasks and caused Erol to drop the meat to floor and allowed the Metal Head to tear it apart. All of them sent firm and deadly glares at Kaylenn yet kept their mouths shut as they saw Aza, Chandee, Jinx, and Kor trailing behind him.

When they all were settled in the seats, Kor folded his hands and gave his children, nephews and nieces a look that translated for them that he expecting someone to speak first.

Kaylenn made th decision to speak first, however, it was not what everyone expected. Instead of news he received from other warriors or strategy suggestion, he drawled, "So Torn, how was that hot piece of blond ass last night?"

A pleased smirk settled onto Kaylenn's features as he took in the different reactions of his relatives. His sisters were shaking their heads, Ashelin gave him a blank look, Kor had an amused expression on his face, Erol was laughing behind his hand that attempted to hide his laughter, and Torn's eye was twitching.

Torn managed to ground out in a strained voice, "Fine. I'm sorry you don't have anything interesting to talk 'bout and you have to resort bringing in my business, but we have more important thing talk about. Father, here's General's Batalla's report." He snatched a piece of parchment from under the book he was reading and pushed it to Kor who took and began to read.

In a couple of moments, the Spargan King's eyebrows wrinkle and a frown pulls his lips down. He slammed the report on the table. "Damn those Havenites! They are very determined to wipe us out!"

"What do you mean Uncle?" Aza inquired with a raised blond eyebrow.

"The Havenite Army was dispatched to the Wasteland and went to the wheat fields that lied to the south of the border and destroyed all the wheat crops!"

Chandee's jet-black eyes, along with everyone else's, grew big and exclaimed: "What? But we need wheat! Bread is essential to our way of life!"

Jinx growled, "No shit! And they 'ave da nerve to call us savages! We didn't destroy any of their tomato or potonion (potato/onion) crops, now did we? We only just destroyed fifteen of their sister villages and twenty temples, what's so bad 'bout dat?"

"Hold up," Ashelin interjected. "we can't say that. Yes, the lack of wheat maybe a setback but we still have the fish of the sea, Yakow and Hip Hog meat to depend on for survival including vegetables, fruits, and nuts. So, not all hope is lost."

"And that is not all." Erol spoke. "I heard from General Estevez that they also took out _Zorro Kuro _(2) City."

Kor scoffed with sarcasm. "You mean _destroyed_ it. Thankfully, though the whole city fell, most of the Zorro Kuran warriors managed to kill half of the Haven City Army and most of the people survived, but do not have a home."

Torn shrugged with nonchalance rolling off him. "Heh, they'll manage. We already have our hands full with taking care of our City. Any word of possible attacks on Haven City?" He aimed the question at Kaylenn.

The black-haired male's lips turned at the corners into an impish smirk. "No word of possible attacks, but for past attacks."

Curious and confused faces were now all directed onto Kaylenn who seemed to be basking in being the center of attention for his knowledge-hungry cousins and uncle.

"Well…"

-------------------

"Keira! Keira, whatta ya _doin'_?" Vika whispered harshly to Keira, whose ears were flattened back and one ear was pressed against the door in order to make sure she even heard every phonetic sound of the conversation that was taking place behind the door.

"Shhh! Quiet Vika!" Keira strongly said and returned back in her current activity.

Vika's olive-green eyes were now pleading and occasionally darting to both sides of the hallway to make sure no one was witnessing them in eavesdropping. Her pale and brown freckled hand reached to grab Keira's wrist that escaped her grip. "_Keir-ra_…we're notta 'pose ta be 'ere! If they catch us, we're dead!"

"Then let it be so…" Keira did not finish the rest of her sentence as a gasp emerged from her mouth. She suddenly dropped the tray she had in her hands that landed with big clang. Behind the doors, they heard someone say "What was that?". She seized her new friend's hand and they took off in a dash and took a turn at the corner that was not too far from were they were.

The door was slammed open and Aza and Erol came forth. Both took quick looks across the hallway yet did not see anyone or anything for a fallen silver tray and scattered fruit.

----------------------

Though the day began with a rough start for Jak, its events were taking more of pleasant turns as he finally met up with Daxter who was thankfully, fine, well and was ecstatic of having a companion like Tess accompany him during the tours of the palace. At first when Jak was introduced to the blonde Wastelander, he contemplating on whether he should trust her or not. However, Tess proved herself to be trustworthy person as Daxter told him how she took away from the dungeon he was thrown into.

Now, Jak, Tess, Daxter and Asante (who joined them later on) were situated in the kitchen noshing on tiny, flaky and triangular pastries that Tess called _Böreks_ (3) that had a cheesy/minty tasting filling. A comfortable silence hung over in kitchen that is until Vika and Keira burst in.

Daxter immediately got up to hug their relative, however Jak kept his distance as he sensed something amiss as soon as his cousin entered. The hug was short-lived when Keira pushed the Ottsel off of her. Her eyes were shimmering with bright tears and sadness and she was breathing convulsively.

"Keira…" Jak started. "what's wrong?"

Her breath was still coming out as haggard breaths and Keira answered slowly, "Jak…thank goodness…found…you. Need…to tell…you… and…Daxter…"

"What? Need to tell us what?" Jak persisted as his worry and dread began to creep into his heart.

"The…Metal Heads…they attacked the palace…Daddy's dead…"

End of Chapter 5

Author's Note:

(1) One time, when I was playing Jak 2 I changed the language and subtitle settings from English to Spanish. During one of the scenes when Jak was talking to Krew (that flying piece of waste) and talking about Wastelanders, I've noticed the word. So I decided to switch the language back to English and still used the Spanish subtitles and I've noticed they still used this word. So, basically this is what the Wastelanders are called in Spanish.

(2) No, the city is not named after the suave Spanish hero. 'Zorro' is actually Spanish for 'fox' and Kuro is Japanese for 'black' (or so what a site told me, but I could be wrong, if I am, can someone contact me to correct me?). So translated, it means 'Black Fox City.'

(3) Böreks are Turkish pastries that are filled with a mixture of feta cheese, mozzarella, parsley, chives, mint, and nutmeg. I've never tried them, but once I looked at the picture and recipe I was convinced that it is probably really good and sooner or later I will try it.

(4) Though I had no number four, I'm writing this to explain the meanings of the names of my characters, Vika and Asante. Vika is a Scottish female name and means "from the creek" and Bhaltair is male Scottish name that means "strong fighter." Asante is a Swahili word for "Thank you," and from I what I remembered Vega means in Spanish "falling star."

Whew! Thank goodness, I'm done! I apologize folks, but I was busy studying for exams, getting psyched for summer, brainstorming and such. Also, I was feeling a lack of inspiration, but I'm over it. But, in order to continue I really need reviews. Please, read and review in order to keep me going. Otherwise, thank you for reading and hopefully I'll continue.


	7. Chp 6: The Storms Within

Hey folks, River Child's here and back with another chapter. I hope you enjoyed the last chapter and the previous ones. So far, I'm proving myself that I can accomplish a task when I put my mind to it and such wonderful reviews and support coming from great readers. Also, I could not stop writing this story as I find it relaxing and it's so fun to write. Anyway, I will repeat: I do not own the Jak and Daxter characters, devices, creatures, and places. I don't even own the Spanish language used in this story or the food mentioned here. The only things I own is my OOCs, the made up words, places, and cultural details for the Wastelanders, Haven City folk, and others mentioned. If I did, then you would have seen my name in Jak and Daxter handbook for credits…

But I'll shut up. _Continua con sus leyendas _(Continue your reading).

Chapter Six: The Storms Within

"The…Metal Heads…they attacked the palace…Daddy's dead…"

When the words struck Jak's unexpected ears, his legs were uneasy as the waves of the blue sea braving against a raging storm and gave out on him. He stumbled back into the seat, light-headiness ensnared him and he had to place a hand to his forehead to maintain a sense of balance and level. Daxter was frozen to his spot, shock and disbelief written all over his face. Asante and Vika, however, appeared to be nervous as they refused to look at Jak, Daxter and Keira. Asante pursed his lips and his light brown eyes were darting back and forth onto Tess, who hung her head low and her face hidden amidst a sea of golden locks and her eyes locked on the shiny surface of the table. Vika took careful steps towards Keira yet kept her distance.

Once the light-headiness was slowly fading away, Jak's eyes were on Keira, filled with a desperate light and he pleaded with a voice that translated a reluctance and refusal to sound broken and sad. "Keira…please tell me…you're lying or you…misheard…"

Keira shook her head frantically, denying the possibility. "No. I-I-I'm not lying…he's dead…the Metal Heads…they began attacking the palace three days ago…and…just today, the Metal Heads—" She took a quick look at Asante and Tess and her devastated features harden and spoke of accusation. She wiped a couple of tears that strayed away from her eyes. "_They_—" Tess cringed at the harshness and severity that poured into the simple word, while Asante's eyes slanted in defense. When Keira spoke again, her voice was less strained and anger coated it. "—succeeded. The palace was destroyed and when the Metal Heads searched the wreckage, they did not see any bodies, but they know that it was going to be the case as they used plasmite cannons and plasmite will disintegrate skin, muscle and bone. Now Daddy is dead." Keira once again threw another accusing glare at Tess who now were really trying to escape such a gaze and Asante who was gritting his teeth. "All because of them."

Asante growled, slamming his hands on the table and standing up. "Hold up! I don't believe this! I don't know what gives you the right to go pointing fingers, but whatever it is, you better get rid of it quick. And get this through your head honey: you have no reason to blame us. We have nothing to do with this. I'm just a servant and Tess' here got nothing to do with her cousins, the Metal Heads, or any shit they happen to stir up—"

Now all heated looks of the Haven City Royals were pointed on Tess who still refused to meet anyone's gaze.

Jak was the first to interrogate the blonde Wastelander. "So, Erol, Ashelin and Tor—" his mouth closed and his lips quivered as they opened again, he still could not say the name without having memories flashing through his mind, along with the announced death of his uncle weighing upon him. "—_those monsters _are your cousins?"

Tess' head rose up and for the first time, her soft eyes were hard and protective. "I prefer if you call my cousins by their names, or call them at least epithets or things that are associated with _humans_."

Also for a first time, Daxter shot the blonde a glare as well. He countered as he crossed his arms, "I don't know about that sugar plum. Given the rumors we hear about your cousins, one would wonder if that word should be used to describe them even _once_."

Asante shook his head and moved away from the table. He sauntered over to the counter and plopped his rear on the counter, his legs hanging off it. He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair.

Vika decided to add in her bit. "It's not tha point. Look, we know all 'bout der reputations, but I don't think they 'ad anythin' to do with it."

"Oh yeah?" Keira gave Asante a challenging look. "Then how come the one named Kaylenn or something, sound so _pleased_ when he was telling the others about what happened?"

"Because he really can't stand you Havenites," Asante said it as though it was the most obvious thing in the word. "He also couldn't stand Samos—"

"My father was a good man!"

"Oh really?" An angry smirk was placed on Asante's face. The Wastelander male jumped off the counter and was making his way towards the doorway.

Vika murmured, "Asante no…" She was probably assured that no one heard her light tone, however, Jak heard it and focused a contemplative gaze on the Copselander.

Asante turned back to the occupants of the kitchen and leaned against the entrance. "You really have no clue…" and he left the room.

"Sheesh!" Daxter cried out. "What crawled up his ass and gave him a personality makeover? So," he directed his attention back onto Tess. "did you know about…_this_?"

Tess shrugged her nervousness off. "I only knew that the Metal Head Commanders were constantly trying to persuade any of my relatives to allow them to attack the Palace. But I knew none of them would give in because that is not important in their agenda. They don't really care about the Palace's destruction they only care about seeing your people's destruction and avenging the Dead Wastelanders. But I didn't know that the Metal Heads were finally and/or _actually_ allowed nor about the Haven City Palace's destruction until now and today. But then again, they could have done this without anyone's permission."

"So, you're telling us that the Metal Heads did that completely of their own free will?" Even when Jak posed the question, doubt was clear in his voice. "I thought your people were able to control them?"

"Not exactly. They'll listen to us, but occasionally they disobey. They only and completely listen to Kor and are greatly loyal to him."

"What about your cousins?" Though the accusation was gone from Keira's features, but her tone displayed distrust and anger.

"It's the same thing with Wastelander commoners." Tess lifted her head and rested her chin in the palm of he hand. "Most of the times they listen, sometimes they disobey, but that's only because they're half Metal Head, and the thing with Metal Heads is that you have to be completely their own, otherwise there is a guarantee they will disobey, betray and may even kill you."

"Oooh, your cousins are actually human, " Daxter piped in. "well, only half, but that's still nice…"

Tess actually shot daggers at Daxter and his ears flopped down and his head hung in an ashamed manner. "You know, my cousins may not be the nicest people on the planet, but they still have emotions…"

Jak scoffed. "Yeah right. What emotions?"

Vika softly said, "We'll leave it ta ya ta figure it out…"

"Vika! Tess!" a high-pitched yet Waastelander coated voice of girl called out.

Standing in the doorway was a very small girl, probably six or seven years old with a bright smile beaming her bronzed and pixyish face. Long locks of rust were tied in a low and neat ponytail and shimmering violet eyes were devoid of any adjective that were used to describe a Wastelander warrior, but not empty of the adjectives to describe a child raised well in a nurturing and sheltered environment: innocence, friendliness, and happiness. The child even looked like she could not withstand nor be trained as fighter as bright yellow flowers adorned the upper corner of her ear and even with a small teardrop tattoo on her right cheek.

"Jelena! There you are…" Coming behind the child, was a young man, possibly nineteen year old that gently grabbed the girl by both her shoulders. Still, the girl tried to escape the grip of his hands, her hands reaching for Vika and Tess.

The young man's voice was light yet tinted with an undetermined accent and did not sound as scolding as it should be when he spoke. "Don't run off like that! You could've fell and broke your neck." He was as attractive as Asante with creamy, curly, and dark chocolate tresses framing his tanned and oval face and trailed to his slender shoulders. He was small in height, like Jak and Asante and would be considered slender and skinny, despite his flowing and deep blue pants and loose, long-sleeve white tunic. Hazel eyes scanned the faces of the Haven children, eyebrows furrowing in curiosity and suspicion for a moment then a friendly smile appeared, flashing his sharp white teeth.

"Hi, I'm Keme," He took one hand off of Jelena and offered it Keira, who eyed it suspiciously.

Keira's eyes settled on Keme and finally she took the hand and shook it. "Hi, Kei—"

"I already know who you are, Princess Keira."

Keira rolled her eyes. "Let me guess—the 'grapevine'?"

Keme shook his head. "Not really, more like every royal on North Island had to know your name."

The dilated eyes of the Haven City children inspect Keme once again until they finally settled on his hand and saw a small tattoo of red tribal water waves and a thick and golden band ring on his left middle finger with an insignia of a seashell with wings.

Jak said, "I heard of you, you're Keme Achak, Prince of the Namirojo Tribe of the Northwest Playns." No wonder the accent sounded so different compared to the Wastelanders.

Keme grimaced at the title. "Please don't say that. It's all in the past now. Anyway," He focused onto Tess, who rose up from her seat and Vika. "I came down here to tell you that I have to go out for a bit and one of you will have to take care Jelena. She prefers you two over the servants."

Jelena pouted. "Because I don't like them! All they do is gossip!"

Vika chuckled and took Jelena from Keme. "Well, that's bas'cally what Cuzin Asante does, alon' with other things." she winked at Keme and Tess. She looked down at Jelena and took her hand. "Come on, luv. Let's go ta _El Tesoro Del Horno_ (1) n' ya get squiocta (squid/octopus) n' I get ma self a nice cold glass of caipirinha (2)."

"No drinking Vika!" Keme playfully glared and placed his hands on his hips.

Vika grimaced a little. "Oh well. Fine. I'll getta nice bowl o' Hip Hog soup. Come on, Lena." She waved goodbye to everyone and she and Jelena left.

Keme shook his head and disregarded the comment. "Also, Torn and Ashelin requests both of your presences at the banqueting hall."

Jak's narrowed at the mention of the names. "You mean more like demand, as you trying to imply."

"And no, we're not going," Keira strongly added.

"If I was you, I would do what they say." Tess said as she leaned against the counter. "Otherwise you'll end up on the wrong end of a knife, sword, spear, sai, or gun."

"You mean…they woulda actually kill'em?" Daxter hesitantly asked.

Keme said, "Not really, but in the old days they did. But now, they might beat you, torture you and punish you."

"And have ya actually witness'em…um…kill somebody?"

Keme nodded his head to confirm truth while, as Tess said, "No, they wouldn't kill anybody when I'm around."

"Then maybe you should come with us," Keira suggested.

Tess and Keme shook their heads to contradict the suggestion. However, Keme replied, "No, they only want you two…_alone_."

Jak tilted his head and cradled it in his hand. His cerulean eyes studied the designs carved onto the tile of the floor for a while until he sighed. "'Kay, we'll go."

------------------

"Good luck you guys, and may your Precursors be with you." With that Keme turned and walked away from Jak, Keira and the two massive doors that marked the beginning of their slavery.

Both cousins looked to each other, gazing at the other and saying with hidden words that they love each other, just in case, this moment could be their last. Each strongly inhaled as though to suck in courage that the air might contain. They pressed their bodies against the cool surfaces and used all the strength they could muster and pushed against the doors that took awhile to yield.

When they stepped inside, they were immediately swept by coldness, and not because of the clothes they were wearing from the night before. It was also because of the memories of this place that coursed through their minds that made them shiver. They could still feel the eyes of the citizens of Spargus peering through their very souls, before they were hauled off to the very chambers in which both cousins had bid goodbye to their virginities.

The said takers of their innocence were not alone, as they saw Erol sitting at the head of the table, with his feet resting on the edge and cleaning his nails with a knife. The table itself was long and elegant that appeared to seat at least twenty guests. Ashelin was sitting on the left side of it and was immersed in studying what appeared to be a map. Torn was on the right and had his back facing them and seemed as though he was speaking to someone that could not see. When the doors loudly creaked as they opened and the two former Haven Royals, the Wastelander captors turned and faced the captives.

Torn made a summoning motion with his hand. However, Jak and Keira stood where they are and brought heated gazes upon them.

"Get. Over. Here. _Now_." Torn's voice rumbled and sounded as though it would thunder and bring the whole palace down if he spoke again.

Jak's eyes trailed to Torn's belt and saw the youngest Spargan Prince's hand inch towards the crescent-shaped knife and suddenly Jak remembered Asante's words of advice…

"Listen to him and if he tells you to stand on your head and sing, you'd better…" 

Jak sighed and he turned to Keira and jerked his head towards the table. Keira nodded and both slowly and warily walked to the table and took a seat next to their master and mistress. Jak tried to lean back so he can take a gander at the person that was seated on the other side of Torn, but unfortunately he still could not see the mysterious person, as Torn chose to lean against the person and to whisper in their ears.

The person finally got up and Jak caught a glimpse of the figure. He nearly gasped as he immediately was peering at the redheaded woman from last night in this very room.

The red-head woman shot Jak and Keira an impish smirk before setting her features back into a somber expression and said to the Spargan Royals: "It is time. You can go see her."

Erol threw his head back and sighed before jumping out of his seat. "_Finally!_"

Ashelin and Torn followed suit while Jak and Keira slowly and reluctantly rose from their seats. They were led out of the banqueting hall to a door that resided at the upper left corner of the room. Through the door was a flight of spiraling stairs they had to ascend for what felt like forever to Keira and Jak that was halfway swallowed by darkness, as there were no lights that adorned the walls. They were nearly out of breath and struggled to keep up with the Spargan Royals and the woman that handled it with such ease as they walked through a bright hallway. The walls were embellished with images of attractive men and women standing in different poses and wearing all miscellaneous colors of a rainbow. To some extent they disturbed the two Haven City cousins yet at the same time they were a comfort.

At last, they came to a halt at a wooden door painted with a picture of a deep purple fawl (falcon/owl, if you don't remember) with three eyes staring straight at them. The redhead woman in front of the five Royals gently pushed the door aside. The room was a small realm of death and non-describable power to Jak's and Keira's eyes as they took noticed of two bookshelves that resided at both sides of the room filled with bottles of powders and oils. Tiny statues of men with frightening skull masks carved from a light blue mineral were placed at the corners. Statues of laughing and somber human skulls that were carved from a lavender stone were placed on the edge of each shelf was the most terrifying detail of the room. The only comforting aspect of the chamber was the lone palm tree planted in a pot against the wall that was the center of attention of the room.

"Where is she, Sophia?" Erol impatiently asked as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

"She is in the other room, _Señor_, sleeping." The redhead woman known as Sophia simply answered.

"She's _sleeping_?" Erol furiously and incredulously asked. "We asked her to be prepared and be ready to answer questions, and she's sleeping?"

Sophia's light golden eyes narrowed and flickered with sparks of irritation. "She is prepared. And Trella (3) is not sleeping, she's dreaming."

Erol rolled his eyes and sarcastically said, "Oh excuse me! How silly of me to make that mistake! What's the fucking difference?"

"Because Señor Erol, like the lizard told the first warrior of the Wastelander race that dreaming is traveling to and seeing the future (4)." A deep and airy feminine voice suddenly said.

Emerging from behind the side of the bookshelf was a tall young woman of twenty- five years of age. Slanted and tantalizing lavender eyes were slightly cloudy as though she recently awakened from deep sleep and peered at the guests with amusement. Her long and lively tresses was the beautiful blue of the sky that stretched across the North Island and unfortunately thrust upon Jak and Keira memories of their home. Glowing bronze skin shimmered in the light the many candles provided. Her choice of ware was a flowing sleeveless cerulean blue dress with thin straps whose hem ended in mid-calf, with a darker blue scarf wrapped around her shapely waist. With her wrists and ankles dipped in pure gold, half of her face concealed by a semi-transparent blue veil and a blue pendant that hung from band of a gold chain that wrapped itself around her head, the aura that surrounded the young woman dripped mystical nature, sensuality and awesome power.

"I dreamt of you." the young woman's voice was heavy with crystalline Wastelander. "I know the questions you seek and the answers to them. But give me what is needed and I shall tell you."

Erol growled and threw something at the woman that she quickly caught. She held the object in the air, which happened to a pure silver statuette of a Flying Frog poised in a sitting position with its wings arched behind it. She nodded in approval. "This'll do."

Trella walked towards the lone small palm tree and placed the frog neatly and symmetrically on the dirt that encircled the plant. Afterwards, she turned left and disappeared behind the bookshelf. The creaking of a door being opened loudly echoed in the deathly quiet room, and she said, "Señor Torn, you are first. Come."

Torn sighed and his shoulders lightly brushed against Jak's. Their eyes met for a brief moment and then Torn ripped his eyes away and followed from where the sphinx was. He was only gone for a minute or so and then he returned. However, perplexity shone in Jak's eyes as he observed Torn when he stood by him. In one hand, the Wastelander Prince had a fat and short green candle. In the other was an odd fruit that was large and oval in shape and was light yellow from the top and faded to turquoise at the bottom. Trella then summoned Ashelin whose absence lasted for a minute, just like Torn's and when she returned she was holding the same things that were in her brother's hands.

Trella reappeared, this time with a statuette of a young woman with yellow-greenish pigmented skin carved from a stone that was coated with a glistening paint. Braided locks of pale blue gemstones framed her face and were connected to her whole back. Eyes of blood-red gemstones glimmered in the light as Trella placed the image in front of the palm tree. She sat down in front of the statue, blocking it from the view with her body. She made a commanding motion with her index finger without turning back to her guests. "You two, the Havenites, sit down behind me and eat twelve of the seeds in the papagranate (papaya/pomegranate)."

Keira and Jak looked quizzically at each other. Before they could attempt to channel one another ideas, their master and mistress shoved the odd fruits into their hands and grabbed their shoulders and pushed and forced them to the floor. Both of the Haven Royals sent heated glares at Ashelin and Torn who shot them their own threatening looks. Jak sighed and closed his eyes and ripped the fruit opened and Keira followed suit. Jak grimaced at the interior of both sides of the separated fruit; both were a disgusting muddy green packed with at least twelve seeds. He plucked one seed and placed it in his mouth and quickly swallowed it. Jak almost puked as he could feel that lone seed drop into his stomach. However, he fought the feeling and continued on to swallow the rest of the other eleven seeds residing in that one side, ignoring that growing feeling to vomit.

When he and Keira finished their horrendous snack, they left the uneaten parts on the floor until Trella made another command. "Take these slips of paper and write your names on them and place them between the two halves of the fruit and put them back together."

She slid back to them two slips of paper and two pens, which they took and did everything as the Wastelander female said.

Trella sent a command with her hand indicated to Torn and Ashelin. "You two. Pick up the fruit and place them by your feet. And then you and your slaves, raise your arms and stretch them forth," She also had her arms stretched forth and above the statue.

Jak and Keira rolled their eyes, but he and Keira raised their arms. Suddenly, incoherent and foreign words rumbled from Trella and filled the small room. Jak and Keira gathered that they were probably Río and could only catch words like "Hekuba," and "_gracias_". When Trella was done she rose and Jak and Keira followed the action and were pulled close to their captors by their shoulders when the mysterious woman turned to face them.

She said, "I have done my part. Now, it is time to fulfill your part. Remember what I told you. Mother," she directed her gaze onto Sophia. "I wish to eat now and I will go with you to the Temple."

Sophia nodded an she tilted her head in ways of a goodbye to the Wastelander Royals who did the same and she and Trella left the room, following Erol, Torn, Ashelin, and a bewildered Jak and Keira.

Jak's eyes were on the lean and muscled back of Torn who appeared oblivious to his gaze. Jak knew that the whole ritual he and Keira had undergone was a performance for some spell. He remembered back in Haven City when he would accidentally eavesdrop on the servants' conversations about Wastelanders and their previous place and status in Haven City centuries ago. They were known and feared for being palm readers, psychics, and witches. Often, many that had a big purse could purchase their service and have them perform gory and frightening spells and rituals to fulfill whatever their client requests. They were also feared, as they believed in gods and goddesses that were bequeathed unimaginable powers and were even said to exist and come to the aid of the people.

'So if it was a ritual, what kind of ritual was it?' Jak questioned in his mind.

-----------------

Torn dragged the skinny match across the lone altar that made its place on the right side of his bed and when the flame flickered into birth, he swept it over the candle until a flame was lit. He got up from his knees and dusted them a little before trying to stifle an oncoming yawn. He turned to walk towards his bed, eager to get under the sheets and press himself against Jak's sleeping form. Hopefully, the blond will choose not to be too difficult and give a little midnight snack and got over his huff.

Earlier in the afternoon, after the visit to Trella's room, the blond-haired elf seemed to refuse to talk to him, look at him or even spare a light casual touch throughout the rest of the day. Well, Torn could not really blame him, but he knew Jak could not be mad at him for the lost of his virginity. In his mind he was gentle to him, he didn't rape him, he seemed to enjoy the experience and he could have raped him, if he wanted to and ignore Jak's difficulty and reluctance like he did with his other slaves. Also, certainly he did not get rid of him the morning after. Yet, he after all, was the one of ones that was responsible for his kidnapping, and the blond probably heard of his uncle's death and the Haven Palace's destruction from one of the gossipy servants.

'Oh well, he better get over it.' Torn shrugged his shoulders and readjusted his black loose tunic and pants. He lifted the sheet and was about to duck under it and embrace the warmth it emanated until he caught a movement from the corner of his eye.

He let a breath and looked at the bed ruefully before he walked over to the dresser and peered at his reflection in the mirror. Tired blue orbs stared back at him and his facial markings looked nearly black under the dim light the candle on the altar offered. He cocked his head to the side, but his reflection did not follow the action, but instead smirked at him.

Torn rolled his eyes and backed away from the dresser and turned away from his mirror image. When he turned to face the mirror again, a young woman was sitting on the dresser, with her caramel-toned legs swinging back and forth and cockily smiling at the not amused Wastelander Prince. Golden hoop earrings and head pendent gleamed through the half darkness along with the rich, well-fitted V-neck robe mimicking the hue of the green leaves of a palm tree.

"Wanted to make a midnight visit, Meeka?" Torn questioned the woman.

"Can't a goddess visit the mortal of whom she is a patroness to?" She fluttered her kohl-lined and light brown eyes and her red-colored lips curled with more of the cocky edge. "You seem to have forgotten that night is the time of the day that I claim and walk through."

Torn shook his head. He walked to the door and unlocked and opened it, stalking out of his room with the deity trailing after him.

"Or is it…" Meeka began, running a finger through her cocoa-colored and cornrowed locks and twisting it in the curls that began in the middle part of her head to her shoulders. "you were too busy with your…investigation or that new slave of yours…?"

"That's none of your business!" Torn barked in a whisper and increased his pace.

"It is my business as I am your patroness and goddess. And, you are not following The Boundless Laws, you are to respect me." Meeka had no problem in keeping up with Torn's speed and maintaining her graceful walk and calmness. "Even if that includes me mentioning situations you do not wish to talk about."

Torn stopped and hung his head. He took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. "Fine. I apologize…_Señora_ Meeka. What do you want?"

Meeka crossed her arms and adjusted all of her weight onto one leg, and Torn's eye followed the shapely curve of her hip and then flashed back onto her now serious face. "When do you plan on telling the boy about the visit to Trella?"

Torn shrugged. "When I want to."

"More like never or until he finds out or someone tells him."

Torn's eyes narrowed. "Do you think I should tell when he probably already knows about his uncle's death, that will add more stress for him. Not only that he'll probably do something stupid like jump out of a window if I told him."

"Sounds like you care for him." Torn narrowed his eyes again at her. "You and I both know he is a Havenite and suicide is against their religious teachings and the boy somewhat follows them. Beside, I really don't think he is prejudiced against Wastelanders. I believe he was more misinformed about your people."

"Well then, there's the dilemma." Torn crossed his leg. "He firmly believes what everyone else told him about us and he was never exposed to any Wastelanders."

"That may well be. But I do not believe he would commit suicide or attempt to harm you and perhaps, his feelings might change."

Torn scoffed. "Yeah. Right."

Meeka sighed in exasperation. "So how goes your investigation?"

"I think I have new leads." Suspicion was in his eyes and coated his tone. "But you already know that and more."

Meeka warily watched him. "Yes…" she answered carefully. "But I cannot tell you. I maybe a deity of prophesy, but I cannot tell you the future. We are forbidden to participate in mortal affairs as well tell any short-lived one what we know."

Torn lowered his head and eyed his bare feet. He sighed, "I know…"

"I greatly apologize Torn, I know what it is like. But I cannot tell you otherwise it will poison your mind." Pity shone in Meeka's brown depths as she inched herself closer to Torn and caressed his cheek.

Torn closed his eyes for a bit, refusing to look at the immortal in the eyes. However, when his forgotten fatigue began to weigh upon him, he decided to go back to his room. When he reopened his eyes, he did not see any sympathetic gaze of a goddess, but a dark hallway.

End of Chapter 6

Author's Notes:

(1)_ El Tesoro del Horno_ means in Spanish, 'The Oven's Treasure' or ' The Oven Treasure.'

(2) Pronounced "kie-pee-REEN-yah." It is the national alcoholic drink of Brazil. It has a sweet and refreshing taste (from what I heard, I never had the drink…yet). I'm not going to tell you how to make the drink, because I don't want to look like I'm giving out bartending lessons.

(3) Trella is a Spanish female name that means, "star." It is pronounced "tray-yah." In Spanish, the two L's is pronounced like 'y' in 'yes.' While I'm at it, Keme means in Algonquin "secret" and Achak is also Algonquin and means "spirit." Jelena is Russian for "light."

(4) Okay, the Lizard is the Native-American symbol or Medicine Animal of Dreaming. The Story about him was changed in order to fit my story. Anway, this is how the original story goes: one day, Lizard was resting in the shadow on a big rock. Snake came by looking for some shadow to rest in, but saw that Lizard was sleeping (or what he appeared to Snake) and waited for a while until he got impatient. Snake hissed and Lizard opened his eyes. Snake asked Lizard if he could share his shade with him, Lizard said yes, but he said that Snake would have to rest on the other side of the rock and not interrupt him. The Snake got annoyed and asked how could he bother him when he was just sleeping. However, Lizard smiled and said that he was sleeping but dreaming. Snake did not know the difference between sleeping and dreaming, so Lizard explained. He said that dreaming is going to the future and he goes where the future lives and thus knew Snake would not eat him as he ate a mouse. Lizard's comment was correct as Snake was taken back by it and said he was right and wondered why Lizard would offer to share his shade with him. Lizard laughed and said that Snake was looking for shade and he is looking for shadow and shadow is where the dreams live. Quite a wise animal, Lizard.

Thankfully, this chapter did not take as long as I thought it would. Hopefully, it will be like that with the next chapter and the others after. Anyway, thank you all for reading and please review. I need reviews to continue on. Thank you.


	8. Chp 7: On Edge and Slowly Learning

Hello friends. Here I am with another chapter (I'm just so proud of myself ). And for the people that were probably looking for lemony scenes, thank your lucky stars, I decided to add them in this chapter. Anyway, I repeat this until I'm done with this story or whenever I feel like it: I do not own the Jak and Daxter series. If I did, would I actually be bothered writing fanfics? No, you will see a lot of yaoi action in the game and you would not have to seek for it on the Internet. Oh, and Krew would have died a more painful death along with that bastard Baron Praxis (I really don't have a problem with Erol) and I would not add that zoomer-racing segment (that is the _only_ thing I hated in Jak 2).

Also, remember I gave a warning to those who are not fond of yaoi and/or yuri action or sexual activity, and I will repeat: if the heavy same-sex sexual activity bother you or disturbs you in any manner, shape, way or form: turn away and ne'er return. And keep to the Code: thou need not send flames or ye shall be ignored and jeered at. Reader, ye be warned.

But for those who are on the other bandwagon and don't give a hoot, jump in and enjoy the ride!

Chapter Seven: On Edge and Slowly Learning

Keira's breath came out in rapid and uneasy pants. Her hands were merciless on the sheets beneath her as they gripped and twisted the fabric beyond its stretching capability. Beads of perspiration journeyed in a slow pace down her naked chest and congregated in the center. Parts of her emerald locks clung to her sweaty pale cheeks that were enflamed with the intense hue of scarlet, while as the other segments of locks were strewn across the bed in a sea of bright green.

One bare and swarthy hand was slow in its path to one pinkish nipple. One finger playfully plucked it before joining a thumb and gently twisting it. The playful yet simple action wrung another gasp from the Northerner Princess and she tossed her head to the side. She inched her already spread legs wider and glanced down to see and feel the ruby head sink in further. She was so close…

Until finally she felt something run through her depths and Keira let loose and released. One hand flew to her mouth to prevent her shriek to rip out of through her throat. Violent shudders terribly drummed throughout her highly satiated body as she made wild attempts to regain her breath.

Light sounds signaling of someone exiting the chambers. Keira did not need to look from the ceiling to see Ashelin's naked form entering the washroom. The Princess of Haven tore her eyes from the decorative ceiling and glanced at the window that shed the morning sun's light rays. She let out a sigh and her hand patted around on the bed's surface until she felt something solid brush against her fingers and firmly gripped the object. The object that was her necklace that her father once told her would was always offer her protection…

Keira took a quick look at the gleaming silver star and the eye that beheld the magnificent hue of lavender. The very hue that her former sire promised her protection, a sense and feeling of safety. Keira lightly guffawed and began to burst into furious laughter. Teardrops that were aching to escape to confines of her eyes finally were set free and journeyed down her cheeks. She was supposed to be mourning her father yet here she was, spreading her legs and using her pleasure as a form of shedding tears and memories of a man that raised her.

How could she be offered protection from outer forces when she needed protection from herself and the dangerous and lustful beast that lingered in her?

-----------------

Asante yawned as he set the baby bottle on the kitchen table. He rubbed the dirt that gathered in the corners of his eyes. A soft cooing sound was heard and two tiny and palely bronzed hands flexed and reached for his face and instead lightly tugged on his black hair.

He glanced down at the pudgy face of the baby in his arms. "Please _m'ijo_. Please be patient, I just need find a nice plump limarange (lime/orange) to cut up. After all, Aidan, you want to grow big and strong don't you?"

Suddenly another sound of a yawn that was not prevented was heard in the kitchen. Asante turned to see a half-awake.

Asante readjusted the babe in his arms and gave Jak an uncomfortably friendly smile. "Morning."

Jak returned the greeting with a blank look, but replied: "Morning." He took a seat on the counter and took a fruit from a basket near by.

A pregnant and uncomfortable moment of silence made its way into the kitchen and thickened the air with tension pushing from all directions.

Asante could practically taste the discomfort. He sighed and placed Aidan in a high chair in which he still continued wiggle and made cooing sounds. He turned to Jak. "Look, I'm sorry for—"

Jak held a hand up. "Forget it. You were right. We had no right in blaming you and Tess and as for my uncle…well, I'm sure you have your reasons." His eyes settled on the squirming child in the chair and jerked his head towards the baby. "Whose the kid?"

Asante looked down at Aidan and his lips were pulled into a bright smile. He ruffled the messy crown of black hair. "My son, Aidan."

Jak's eyes blinked in surprise and glanced up and down at Asante. He looked barely twenty-one years old and he has a child? "When did you have him?"

Asante gave Aidan the bottle that was resting on the table and was thankful to see the babe happily drinking the milk that resided within the bottle. A contemplative frown was set on his features as he tried to rake through his mind for memories. "Last year. He's twelve months old and the youngest."

Jak's face appeared more curious and confused. "Youngest?"

"Yes, he's the youngest of my eleven children."

Jak nearly dropped the fruit in his hand. "You have eleven children!"

Asante quickly shushed him. He looked at Aidan with worry in his eyes to see if the sudden loud noise of someone crying out disturbed him. However, when it appeared Aidan paid no mind to the sound and more to the milk that was charging through his mouth, he returned his gaze back unto Jak's inquisitive expression and shrugged. "Yeah, I do. What's the big deal? Don't you Havenites believe in procreation?"

"We do, " Jak wiped the fruit against his tunic. "It's just that most Havenite families usually have two or three children. There's a very small number of families with more than three, usually four or five. How many kids there are in a usual Wastelander family?"

"It depends on where you are, " Asante took a seat next to his son. "In Spargus, usually the number I say about is…I don't know…" He made a gesture that translated his uncertainty. "…seven to ten? And there's a handful of families that at least has eighteen to twenty-one."

Jak's eyes went wide and unconsciously, his hand flew to his abdomen and gingerly rubbed it for a bit. He could not imagine the pain of giving birth to such a number of children. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, but I think it's because a lot of Spargan nobles take concubines and mistresses though, so that may explain the large number of children."

Jak inaudibly exhaled. "Okay, so whose the mother?"

Asante toothily smiled at Jak. "There is no mother. I am the mother."

Jak dubiously stared at the Wastelander for a while until Asante was sure that Jak was either going to punch him for saying such an outrageous declaration or howl with laugher right in his face. His second assumption was proven positive as he watched Jak go into hysterical fits of laughter. It was not an expression of mirth, but an expression of disbelief and anger at someone who believed he was stupid enough to believe such a story.

Jak's fists pounded the counter causing the bowl of fruit to bounce simultaneously and tears streamed down his face and his cheeks were a furious shade of red. Asante and Aidan stared in awe at the laughing Northern Prince, as it was the first time Asante ever saw the usually somber-faced blond express other emotions besides anger and Aidan was never introduced to seeing an adult laugh in such a way. Finally, Jak's laughter eventually died down to a couple of chuckles.

Jak said in between hiccups and coughs: "Yeah" _hick_ "right! Look," _hick_. Finally, the hiccups and chuckles were gone. "can you stop playing around and tell me whose the real mother, even if she is or was a bitch and ditched you."

Asante sighed, "Okay, I'll tell you the truth. I. Am. The. Mother. I. Gave. Birth. To. All. My. _Eleven_. Kids. And I would never ditch my children."

Incredulity tinted Jak's cerulean eyes, as they never wavered when they gawked at Asante's serious face. The Wastelander could have been persuaded that many minutes came and passed as the fair-haired elf persisted in his staring. Finally, when Jak discovered the privilege of speaking, Asante inwardly sighed in relief.

"Shit, you're not lying," A statement that was said in a very light whisper.

Asante tilted his head and one corner of his lips curled into a smirk. "Sí."

Jak licked his lips before he asked, "So…you actually gave…birth?"

Asante rolled his eyes, "From the looks of it: yes. I know it's hard to believe 'cause I have such a sexy body and all, but yes, I did give birth to all eleven."

Jak revolved his eyes. "So, Kaylenn…is the father?"

Asante nodded in response and replied, "Yes, he's the father of all our children. I'm not really into being promiscuous, so they don't have different fathers."

Jak chewed on his bottom lip and asked in a hesitant tone, "…How? And why would you be called 'Mom' or…" one blue eye twitched. "'Mommy'?"

"Well, for one thing, my kids sure as hell don't call me those names. They call me Mamá, because I was the one that did give birth to them, that does make me the mother in that perspective and in the Wastelander traditions. And for the first question, one of our many beliefs is that the impossible can be morphed or bended to become the possible. And in each and every one of us there lies powers and capabilities we have yet to imagine that lies within us, aching to be released yet lays dormant until the person does something about it. These powers or abilities can be either summoned or by using spells or rituals or with the aid of a seer."

Jak nibbled on the fruit for a bit and then asked, "So it is possible for…a man…to become…pregnant?"

Asante caressed the head of an occupied Aidan trying to do something with the small ball of irritation within him. "Yes, it is possible. It is believed among us Wastelanders that each and every man has this ability. With some men, the ability is stronger within them, some actually inherit it through genetics and will not need the aid of a spell, ritual, or seer, yet with others that have the ability is weaker within in them and they will have to rely on these factors if he wants a child."

Jak took another bite of the fruit before putting it down. The curiosity was strong in his voice even when attempted to appear casual. "How did you have your kids?"

Asante brushed his fingers over his chin in a contemplative way. "Well, with me it was a case of genetics. All the men on my mother's side carried the gene and she swore up and down that it was because her male ancestor insulted Medea (1) our Goddess of marriage and women affairs and she placed a curse on him and all of his male descendents. Anyway, strangely the male pregnancy gene I carried was very weak as the female seer that did the reading for me after a couple I was born told my parents and also said to them that a spell or ritual would have to be performed in order to strengthen the gene and increase my chances. However, my father knew that it is very harsh life, the life of a slave, especially one that happens to pretty and fertile, so he chose not to perform a ritual or spell, but in the end it was useless."

Jak's eyebrow shot up and confusion was written all over his face. "Why was it useless? Your father tried to protect you?"

"I know he was, but it was no use. We were a slave family living in a slave market compound and our family was known for generations producing attractive people, so sooner or later someone would have came for me. Anyway, that someone did, which was Kaylenn, who was fifteen at the time and I was thirteen…"

That one threw Jak off. "Wait, you were thirteen when you got pregnant?"

Asante's cinnamon eyes slanted not in insult, but more like confusion at Jak's shock and amazement. "Yes, why is that a big deal? I knew men and women that were younger than me that had children and some were ones that…let's just say, they did not know how to keep their legs shut, some were arranged in marriage to someone ever since they were born or some just started early. Anyway, when Kaylenn bought me, we immediately began the…intimate part of our relationship. Days later, he consulted a seer and he told him that he needed to take me out on one of the last four days of the month."

Jak leaned over. "Why?"

"Because in every month the last four days are marked as feast days of Pakwa (2), the God of fire and fertility. During the feast days, bonfires are set all throughout the City, people dance around the bonfires or jump over them and others cast offerings into the bonfires. Booths are set up as well and sell Pakwa's favorite drink and food: coco, and honey cakes. Red and black decorations are set up. Finally, at night, fertility spells and rituals are performed all in the name of the God. Usually, same-sex couples that want children are out on these feats days. Anyway—

Jak's green eyebrows shot up. "Same-sex relationships are allowed here in the Wasteland?"

Asante sighed in annoyance. "Yes, along with same-sex marriages."

That threw Jak off. "And your gods don't condemn you for this?"

"Why should they? Half of our gods and goddesses have lovers and/or spouses that happen to be of same gender. And to us Wastelanders, sex is a common aspect of life and if love is so blind, why should it matter about who you have sex with or fall in love with? Anyway, Kaylenn and I went through the ritual and in order to complete the ritual and initiate the effects of it, Kaylenn and I had sex."

"Did you get pregnant that night?" Jak's voice greatly decreased in volume.

"No, the next day I did but I did not find out weeks later when we paid the seer from before a visit." A smile of reminiscence lit up Asante's countenance. "I was pregnant with our firstborn son, Ignacio. He was a plump little baby."

"And…how did you—" Jak's cheeks quickly morphed into a bright hue of red. "—how did you…give birth?"

Asate's eyes dilated. He was caught a little of guard with the inquiry as he did expect the blond-haired elf to ask about _that_. "Umm…with me I had to take painkillers whose effects also include going into a deep sleep and the doctor and the mid-wife had to cut me open to take Ignacio out. It's very common for a pregnant male to give birth that way, however I did hear of rare occasions of one developing a birthing hole, usually between a man's…two sacred treasures, if you know what I mean, or in the middle of the stomach. "

Jak once again made the endeavor to be the epitome of nonchalance and appear undaunted by the fact, however Asante did catch the slight tensing of his shoulders. At least he was faring with the details better than the other slaves did before him. When Aidan made cooing sounds to signal he was finished drinking his milk, Asante rose and picked his son up, placed him over his shoulder, and gently patting his back.

Jak jumped from his seat and stretched his arms for a bit. When he was finished he quickly left the kitchen, leaving it to Asante and Aidan. As soon as he walked out of the cooking room, his legs became quite unsteady and could barely hold him, causing him to stumble and find support on a wall. He kept close to it as he continued walk down the hall. His hand flew to his stomach once again and gently stroked it for a bit, but as soon as confusing ideas began to fly into his head he removed it from his stomach.

---------------------

"Just how _long_ do we haveta keep watch over this damn cattle?" Daxter kicked a pebble and watched it fly over the golden sand in a small distance. "The damn sun is making me crispier than frying a duciken (duck/chicken) on a stick!"

At the moment, Tess and Daxter were in the Yakow pen that resided behind the Spargus Palace down the hill that bore a path to it and a small beach. Daxter would have admired the beauty found in a location that was quite small if he did not have to do any work, especially under such a humid condition.

Tess, unsurprisingly, was not affected by the weather. She grew up in the Wasteland and was very much used to such labor and weather. She tapped a Yakow calf with her tall staff, coaxing it to return back to the heard that was grazing on a large patch of grass. "Daxter, we don't have to keep watch over them much longer for when the Yakow hands come and separate the calves from the adults and take the adults to the butchery."

Daxter waved his hand in a grumpy nature. "Yeah, yeah, how come Jelena over there doesn't have to watch over them and gets to chill on the beach?" And he pointed to the six-year old Wastelander girl that was past the gates of the pen and sitting on the shore that was a couple of feet away. The sea's waves happened to be merciful on her, as they were not big and violent when they came unto shore and sprayed cool vapors on her face and caressing her rusty locks that had tiny and medium sized seashells tied to it in multiple pigtails.

Tess shook her head and quietly laughed at Daxter's irritation. "Because she's meditating Daxter and communicating with the sea. She has to do it, if she wants to become a priestess."

"A priestess of who? Oh, lemme guess…umm, Michaelah, Goddess of wisdom, prophecy and…wax? Obe, the God of…smells?"

"No, no, and no. First, her name is _Meeka_, and she's the Goddess of wisdom, prophecy and _war_. Don't let any Spargan catch you mispronouncing her name or get her ruling aspects wrong, because that will definitely piss them off. And, there is no god named 'Obe'. Jelena wants to become a priestess of Kaimana (3), the Goddess of the sea and the moon."

Daxter's Ottsel eyebrows drew down and his eyes narrowed in confusion. "But isn't she a servant or slave? I thought slaves weren't allowed to take on other occupations? I mean she is Keme's daughter right?"

Tess began to look very nervous. "Oh dear. No, she isn't Keme's daughter and she isn't a servant or slave."

"Oooh! She isn't! Then who—" Daxter was quickly shushed by Tess who pointed to Jelena who appeared to be unaware of their conversation. Daxter cleared his throat and spoke in a surprisingly quiet voice. "So whose daughter is she?"

Tess bit on her quivering bottom lip. "Daxter…I can't—"

"Tess! The boys are here!" A heavily accented feminine and deep voice called out. Coming towards the blond was a young woman with pigmentation so pale, it seemed to be carved out of marble itself and could not withstand the heat encompassing the whole City. Swirling and tribal black tattoos adorned her cheeks, which were very different from the Wastelander markings Daxter previously saw. The tattoos probably hailed from the artistry of the people from the Icelands. Glowing deep blue locks were tied in a high ponytail that trailed to behind her neck and matching eyes that told of irritation and fatigue.

"Bera? What are you doing here?" Tess looked over the blue-haired maiden's grubby and unkempt clothes. "Are you alright?"

Bera scoffed. "I'm here to tell you the hands are here, and I needed to escape and be delivered from evil. Again."

"Lemme guess: Asante's kids again?" Tess dropped her staff and motioned for Daxter to jump onto her shoulder called Jelena over and the four were on their way out of the Yakow pen.

"I don't know how he's able to deal with them! Don't get me wrong, I love them to death and they're cute and funny as they can be and be sweet when they want to be, but they're such hell raisers!"

Tess giggled. "You forget Bera. Kaylenn was like that too, so it must be genetics."

"Genetics my ass!" As soon as the words came flying out of her mouth, Bera glanced at a shocked Jelena and her hand flew to my mouth.

Tess shook her head. "You didn't leave them with Keme again, _did you?_" The blonde's pools of blue shone with flames of threat burning within them. When Bera's eyes begin to dart away from hers, she said hands akimbo, "I can't believe you! You always leave poor Keme to take care of Asante's kids!"

"It's not my fault that Kaylenn and he are the only ones that can tame those little devils! They at least display discipline and aren't afraid to spank their bottom or give them a decent beating!" Bera then focused her attention onto Daxter who was gazing at her body. "Oh, hello there, I didn't notice you. Bera Delling (4). You must be that Ottsel Prince. You are adorable as the servants say you are." With that she pinched Daxter's furry cheeks.

Daxter quickly shoved the offending hand away from his burning cheek. "Hey! No toucha the face!" And he smoothed his ears down with a vain air and then pointed at Bera. "And second, it's Orange Lightning to you!"

"Oooh, and he is just about funny as the servant say he is too!" Bera exclaimed to Tess who along with Jelena giggled, while as Daxter wore a very cute and angry expression on his face.

Bera immediately and suddenly snapped her fingers. She exclaimed, "Oh yeah! I almost forgot to tell you. Kor, had to go away again another trip."

Tess' raised an eyebrow. "Did he take any of my cousins or my brother with him?"

"No, he went by himself and said that no one is to follow or tag along. He said it is of vital importance and he also left Erol in charge again."

Tess and Jelena sighed. However, Jelena spoke first and for everyone. "Great, now I'll have to lock myself in my room because he's going to hosting those wild parties of his."

Bera said, "You and me both, Lena. You and me both."

Finally, the four entered the palace and entered a hallway. With a farewell, the four went their separate ways. Bera and Jelena headed towards the kitchen, while Tess and Daxter headed for her room. The small trek to her bedroom was spent in silence and included taking Daxter and herself up two flight of stairs and at the top of the second flight she made a sharp turn and was at the entrance to her room. When the two entered her chambers and Daxter gazed around and studied it and found it to be splendid as the other rooms (minus the dungeon) were.

Tess sat him on her large and plush bed and kneeled to his head level with serious look upon her pretty face. Her idle fingers began to brush against Daxter's orange fur. "Daxter, that question you asked 'bout Jelena earlier…"

"Yeah?" Eagerness was lit in his face and his voice did nothing to hide it either.

"I can't answer it. I can't tell you. And I don't want you asking other people, especially Jelena about it. I know it's hard for you to do something like that, but please do that for me."

Disappointment and inquisitiveness now settled on the Ottsel features. "What? Why?"

Tess ears lowered a bit and the tone of her voice decreased as well. "Because if your brother and cousin find out…something's going to happen, and I don't think it's going to be good."

After that, Tess slowly rose and turned and sauntered to her dresser that took its place in front of her bed to comb and aureate crown of hair.

Daxter, on the hand, held his chin in one hand when the finger of his other hand stroked his nose in pondering motion. Why was it a big deal to find who Jelena's parents were or are? And why was Tess worried if Jak and Keira found out and what did she mean by that something was going to happen if they found out? These questions, Daxter wondered.

'Unless Jelena…' Daxter mentally trailed, and then decided if he could not ask about the information the child, then he could find out for himself. Tess did not say he could not snoop around to find out, but then again he felt like he betraying and taking advantage of Tess' trust. Daxter blamed his extremely curious nature for thinking of a scheme like that. He may considered himself many things, and other things by others, but he would not betray a friend, especially one like Tess who delivered him from death or years in a dungeon and taught him things he never knew or believed he would never be taught.

'But then again, what's the harm in sneaking around?' Daxter thought as he lied on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

End of Chapter 7

Author's Notes: 

(1) In Greek mythology, Meda was the wife of the Greek hero and leader of the Argonauts, Jason, whom she helped find the Golden Fleece. After she helped with other tasks and they settled in Corinth, Jason left her for a daughter of King Creon (asshole). But Medea got revenge by killing her husband's new bride with a poisoned robe and crown that burned her flesh from her body and Creon died as well when he embraced his dying daughter. And then Medea completed her revenge with the most heinous act of all, she murdered her two children and took their bodies and took in a chariot drawn by winged horses that belonged to her grandfather, the sun god, Helios to make her husband suffer even more. Complete and serious irony isn't it? That I made her goddess of marriage, but then at the same time she seemed fit in my way to be a goddess of women affairs.

(2) Pakwa is a Hopi name (sources don't specify which gender the name is) that means "frog." In Ancient Egyptian culture the frog was a symbol of life and fertility, as many frogs were spawned after the official inundation of the Nile. So such is the case with the Wastelanders.

(3) Kaimana is a female Hawaiian name that means "divine power of the sea."

(4) Bera is a Teutonic female name that means "bear." Delling is a male Norse name that means, "shining." So, her whole name means, "shining bear."

Yep, peeps, Chapter 7 is done. Thankfully and surprisingly, it did not take as long as I expected. Anyway, another chappie is on its way. In the next chap, expect a basket full of surprises. Please read and review. But either way, I'm very thankful to have people reading my story, regardless of review, when there are other stories out there that are way better than this and I enjoy writing this.


	9. Chp 8 : What Lies in the Dark

Hey folks, it's River Child here and I'm back with a brand new chapter. It's chock full of surprises, suspicion arises, and disaster strikes. But before we can get to the good stuff, I shall repeat: I do not own Jak and Daxter series. The series belong and are under the copyright of good ol' Naughty Dog. Also for the Erol, Ashelin, Torn fans that were wondering where the hell were their favorite tattooed trio, no worries; they're here in this chapter. Also, I apologize for any grammatical errors in the last chapter and the other ones; I was in bit of a rush.

But other than that let's continue with story

Chapter Eight: What Lies In the Dark

_Scratch. Scratch. Scratch._

After placing more marks on the parchment, Torn stifled an oncoming yawn that was threatening to escape his mouth. The pen he was currently using was put down as he decided to take a break for a bit from the writing he did and rested his head in his hand. The only source of light in his room was the green candle given by the female seer, Trella, whose new flame burned bright and painted his chambers in dim darkness. Torn glanced back to see that it also was the very candle that his new slave Jak happened to be observing at and playing with as a means to fend off the rising boredom he had.

Jak's hand swept over the flame to see if it would be extinguish or continue to burn. When the result came and was that the flame was only diminished for a couple seconds and return to its ever-flaming state, the blond-haired elf continued to play with the burned wick.

"Stop that. Don't play with that candle, you moron." Torn growled. Besides that he was getting irritated by Jak purposefully finding amusement in a simple thing, it was also he remembered the specific instructions that Trella gave him about how to handle the candle and how it should be treated.

Jak glanced at his master and he stuck out his chin a little. "Make me."

Torn sighed and he shook his head. He was in no mood to argue or banter with the Havenite and he had to finish the letter he was writing. However, once again Jak's hand glided over the flame again and Torn slammed his hand down on the desk.

"I'm not going to tell you again. Stop that or I'm gonna make a little bonfire outta you!"

Jak grimaced and was biting his bottom lip to prevent a string of profanity and curses to fly out of his mouth. Yet he remembered what Asante told him and his hand slowly descended unto his lap.

Torn's lips slightly curled at one corner. Slowly but surely, Jak was assimilating himself with obedience yet still retain that fire that drew the Wastelander Prince to him besides his good looks.

Speaking of good looks, Jak's skin glowed as the candle's light favored him and decided to paint him in its luminescence. His golden locks seem to sparkle like a crown adorning his head, and his taut muscles of his sculpted back were cast in flattering yet dull shadows. As he predicted when he displayed the sight before him, Torn felt his member bulging to life.

He wanted relief; fast and right now. The letter could wait. Torn pushed his chair back and got up and slowly and carefully walked towards his consort that was still sitting on the floor with his back facing him. It was not as though he could not simply take and claim of what he wanted, but at the present time he was not in the mood to deal with a defiant and struggling slave and really did not feel like slapping some sense into the Havenite or breaking his neck. He watched as Jak's back tensed a bit as though the blond instantly sensed his intentions and was poised to bolt if he had the chance.

Torn stopped in his movements and everything was silent and claimed by suspense. Jak rose to stand on the balls of his feet yet did not make any move and eyed the door. He wondered if he could make it in time…

His ears caught a small sound of movement and Jak scurried to the door. When his hand touched the cool surface of the door handle, he almost gave out a cry of joy, before he felt arms tightly and possessively wrap around his waist and pulled him back. He snarled in disappointment and began to unleash the fire that was simmering within him and began pounding his fists on Torn's lean arms and his legs and feet kicked and flailed, as the Wastelander hauled him to the bed where many activities had partaken; many of which he enjoyed and he regretted yet looked forward to.

"Let me go! Let me go! Let. Me. _Go!_" Jak emphasized the last word with one last and a particularly hard hit Torn's left arm.

Torn winced at the last hit. He was really getting very agitated and was ready to beat Jak until his vision became nothing but fuzzy shapes and objects. However, he did not want to mar the blond's beautiful form and he wanted his 'itch' scratched fast, so he retaliated with simply saying, "As you wish,"

He acknowledged Jak's wish; he indeed allowed him to be free of his arms' grip, but dropped his lithe form unto his bed. Jak bounced a little before he laid splayed before his master, with his legs widely spread and his arms unconsciously above his head; this form and position caused an wicked smirk to be plastered on Torn's lips as it happen to be one of his favorites to see his former slaves (especially Jak) in.

The cerulean blue eyes of the blond narrowed at the advancing darker male and he made small attempts to scoot back only to be stopped when a tanned hand wraps around his ankle. However, Jak still glared at his smirking captor, whose face was lowering to his.

"I hate you." Jak ground out. "You're going to rape me again."

Torn rolled his eyes, but decided to make his lips shift to a different destination as he did not want to kiss the blond as he predicted he was going to say more idiotic things. His lips ghosted a bit above the crook of Jak's neck, clothing it with warm breath before sinking down and hungrily suck on it and let his tongue partake in the activity and lap at the flowering mark.

One tanned hand sped its way to one pink nipple and maliciously pinched and twisted it, rendering a sharp yelp from the male beneath Torn. He ripped his lips away from the tempting throat to stare at the infuriated blue depths of his slave.

"You can hate me all want," He began and his hand once again twisted the formerly abused nipple and Jak bit his bottom lip and his eyes narrowed at him even more. "and I can hate you too, or just be plain and damned annoyed with you, but I'm going to admit that we need each other. I need you to get my rocks off, and do other duties for me. You need me for your well-being and your protection."

"What makes you think I need you?" Fear could be hinted in Jak's voice, but it was not due to Torn's voice but more like what the Wastelander was saying could be deemed true.

"'Cause if you weren't given to me, you would've been given to Erol. And I'm pretty damn sure that a lot of people told you how he is with slaves. And if you weren't given to either of us, you would've been placed in the slave market and probably given to a man or woman that could give less than a damn if you're suppose to last at least one day to satisfy their needs." Jak began to move his face away from Torn and the Wastelander gripped his chin and forced the blond to look at him. "Don't turn away from me! You can disagree with what I'm saying, but I'm telling you the truth. But if you still want to escape, fine by me, but not fine for you as the desert is unforgiving and the Marauders are so as well, if not more."

"If you're telling me this so that I'll allow you to fuck me, you're sadly mistaken." Jak jerked his chin out from Torn's grip. "You just using excuses to rape me again and I—"

Torn made a coughing sound which sounded more like a laugh. He placed his hands on Jak's chest and pushed him down to the bed and had him pinned there. "_Rape you?_ I never raped you. What happened was that I persuaded, you gave, I took, and we had fun. Simple as that, and stop making _your_ excuses and shut up!"

With that, Torn shoved his lips unto Jak's. Surprisingly, the blond made no protests, but did not respond and kissed back. Torn inwardly shrugged his shoulders before his hands rush to his zipper and frees his furious-appearing dick. He sighed with relief as he felt cool air tickle it before his impatient hands rushed down to the hem of Jak's white kilt and lifted it up. Both of his thumbs immediately went to work and kneaded the lightly tanned and Northern thighs, before pressing more into them and spread them apart. Torn quickly grabbed Jak's ankles and placed his legs over his shoulders.

Not particularly in the mood for foreplay, Torn used one hand to hold Jak's hip to prevent any more movements of the blond and brought the other tanned hand to his face, shoves in his mouth and coats it with saliva until he is certain of its volume and amount. He wraps the spit-painted hand around his erect and deprived member and glazed the liquid onto it. He slightly threw his head back at the contact for a moment, before he released his cock and both his hands gripped the paler hips and pushed in that intensely seared Jak's muscles. Jak cried out in protest and he sank his teeth into Torn's shoulder to repress the scream threatening to break out, while as the Wastelander groaned with anticipation of relief and because the soft and iron-grip muscles of the heat that sheathed him.

Torn quickly began to pump in and out with hard, penetrating, and fast thrusts that collided straight into the bundle of nerves within Jak that rendered him to nothing but a trembling mass of flesh. Though the pace of the sex was rough, brutal and fast, Jak managed to receive pleasure from it as his member was pressed against his stomach and encased between his body and Torn's. During the intercourse the Wastelander's shoulder blades were continuously slashed by Jak's nails. Havenite teeth were still buried in the tanned shoulder, stifling the screams and yelps that wanted to rip through his mouth. Beads of sweat pour down Jak's paler forehead and traverse down to his lips and many strands of his hair began to fasten themselves onto the sides of his face.

Soon, Torn's thrusts became more erratic and uncontrolled like waves in an unmerciful and furious tempest. The fingers that gripped Jak's hips jerked for a bit, which was a signal for the younger male that Torn was inches away from his orgasm and Jak was as well when he felt a familiar and tingling sensation surging in his toes. The feeling worked its way up to his member and began to circulate through the veins of his member, until his vision became white and the tiny spiders within his member became one and exploded. Jak cried out as soon as he came and a stream of white seed lacquered both of the males' stomach. The Havenite's eyes become blank orbs of blue and his form became limp and shook along with his master's thrusts.

His muscles clenched Torn's cock tighter and deeper within his depths which causes the Wastelander to pound even harder an faster until Jak unconsciously caught a familiar flicker of intense yellow before smoldering blue displayed his reflection. A low growl emerged from Torn before he comes and drenches Jak's insides once again with his fluid. Torn abruptly and harshly pulls himself out of Jak, quickly regaining his strength and zips himself back in his pants.

Jak finally speaks and says without much heat in his breathy and tired voice, "I hate you,"

Torn tsks and he smirks yet does not reply with words but his finger tapped Jak's nose lightly before he rose to his knees. He was about to get up and leave until he felt a cold chill electrify and freeze his spine. Before he could glance back a harsh slam of pain collided into the back of his head, which caused him to stumble to the floor and his vision to become blotted with darkness and be unfocused. As his consciousness slowly flowed back, he caught sounds stunted coughing sounds, laughter, and then noises that sounded close to hacking. When the sounds flooded his ears, Torn immediately rose to his feet and the confusing shapes in his vision were molded into a vision that Torn would never forget: a Marauder was pinning Jak to the bed, crushing his windpipes and seemingly having a good time doing it as well.

Without any hesitation, Torn grabbed the Marauder's greasy brown dreadlocks and hauled him off his slave. Jak's face was tinted with hues of light blue and dark pink bruises adorned his neck. The blond-haired elf took a gulp of air and was slowly regaining his breath back.

When the Marauder was off of Jak, he spun around and he headbutt the Wastelander Prince. Once again, Torn was out like a light, and the other desert native refocused his attention on Jak who was hopping off the bed and eyeing around for a weapon to hurt the approaching Marauder. When he saw a glint of a sword hanging on the wall close to the door, Jak was about to scamper towards it until the large hands of the intruder wrapped themselves around his neck. The large man shoved him against the wall where the sword hung above his head in a couple inches. Jak inwardly cursed the Precursors for their untimely sense of humor in irony. He tried to claw at the Marauder's hands but alas no avail and all that he could do was kick as wildly as he could. However, slowly Jak's strength was fading as the grip of his neck tightened and less air could enter his throat.

When the focused shapes in his vision began to be replace by black and unclear shapes, Jak thought of the things he could have and should have done and asked the Precursors for the sins he committed. If the wind was not being knocked (more like choked) out of him, he would have mirthlessly chuckled at the fact he most likely be condemned in the afterlife for lying with a Wastelander, a fellow male, and assimilating a little bit of their ways. On second thought, he knew it was not most likely. He was condemned, without a doubt and probably to the deepest pit in Lym—

The pressure on Jak's neck was gone and Jak found himself sliding to the floor, gasping for air, and his hands wrapped around his neck in gratefulness. Once his vision was regained he was confronted with the sight of Torn pulling a sword out of the Maruader's stomach. Torn wiped the blood off the sword onto his pants and dropped it to the floor and grabbed the dead invader's ankles.

His impassive eyes locked onto Jak's. Nothing was said and silence lingered in the room. Torn just simply nodded before dragging the Marauder out of his chambers and shut the door.

Jak rose to his feet and returned to the bed and sat down. He placed his hands on his lap and took a deep breath. After he exhaled, his hand traveled to his throat and trailed the indentation of the bruise left on his flesh.

--------------------

"What the hell is going on around here? Has Maheeshah's demons finally escaped the prison they're trapped in?" Chandee asked.

Erol scoffed. "No, just everything in Spargus being chaotic."

"You mean those Marauder beasts are causing chaos in Spargus!" Aza growled in her two cents while slamming her tanned fist into the table. "This afternoon, a group of Marauders stole a couple of artifacts from Meeka's Temple!"

Erol asked Aza, "Did you ever retrieve them?"

Aza stared incredulously at the redhead. "No, my men and women weren't able to retrieve them! Spent three hours in the desert trying to chase after the damned savages, only for them to return to the fucking fortress!"

Kaylenn, wearing a half-tired expression finally joined in the conversation. "Couldn't they get in?"

"Oh yeah, they could get in, but they're not _allowed_ to get in. Remember, the _Tierra mía_ (1) Doctrine? We can't go into their fortress without permission from their chieftain and cannot go in there to only reclaim objects of the desert. Whoever has the object, owns it, or in other words: finder's keepers, loser's sweepers. Plus you forget their chieftain is an ignorant and stubborn _cerdo_ (2)! "

"But these are artifacts we're talking about here!" Ashelin shouted. "They belong to Meeka's Temple! Meeka is _our_ goddess! So they belong to us and her!"

"But the Temple resides not in our city, nor in our territory, it resides on a little island, that belongs to none of the other Wastelander tribes. The island belongs to the desert, so the Temple belongs to the desert and so does the items in it." Chandee pointed out.

"Damn that law!" Erol yelled. "What would they want with a couple of Meeka's artifacts anyway?"

"Who knows?" groaned Aza.

For a couple of moments, Erol took a couple deep breaths to settle down and simmer down his increasing anger. Finally, he leaned more into his seat and ran his hand down his face. He let a sigh of exasperation before asking, "Anything else happened?"

"Well…" Ashelin started and began contemplating over any details she believed might have lost mental record of. "I think that's it."

"No it isn't" Aza spoke up and all eyes were on her. "I've been getting reports from a couple of middle-class families that their children been turning up missing or actually seen Maruaders sneaking into their neighbors' houses and taking their children away." The blonde Wastelander let a breath before having an uneasy look settle upon her features. "Well, you are aware of what month is coming up in three weeks that the marauders celebrate…"

Silence seized the room and everyone's eyes widened fractionally with the exception of Kaylenn. His crimson eyes went immediately wide and his fingers tapped the table in a fast and uneven pace.

Ashelin veiled her eyes and the bottom part of her forehead in the palm of her hand. "Shit, _El Mes de la Devoción del Sangre_, Blood Devotion Month. The time they give 'special' devotion and 'gifts', like Spargan or non-Marauder children, to their gods."

"I'll send a city-wide warning to all parents and orphanages to be sure to have the children in buildings at a certain time and lock doors and keep weapons close by." Kaylenn said softly before he slowly rose out of his seat and sent a curt nod to his relatives before turning towards the door which suddenly burst opened and to reveal Torn standing in the doorway holding an ankle of a massive and very lifeless Marauder.

"What the _hell…_?" Kaylenn loudly exclaimed as he quickly backed away as his siblings and Erol jumped from their seats to help Torn haul the Marauder's form in. Ashelin ran to the door and quickly shut it. The long table was shoved out of the way along with the seat pillows and the body was chosen by the young adults to be placed there. It collided into the floor with a loud thud and soulless black eyes stared at the ceiling held the reflections of half the bewildered faces of the Spargan Royals that circled the form.

"How…" Aza trailed throwing her hands up and dropping them to her sides again.

"Not sure on the how, but I'm very sure on the what," Torn quickly said. He walked away from the corpse and his family and leaned against the wall. "He snuck up on me and my slave. He roughed me up twice, but he was mostly focused on Jak."

"Okay, but why? Why would it want to kill the Havenite?" asked Ashelin with a red eyebrow raised and leaned against the edge of the table, not bothered with standing very close to a dead body.

"Because simply he's a Havenite." Kaylenn simply said with snort. "We all know that the Marauders hate the Northmen as much as we do."

"But then they could also know about his status." Chandee pointed out. She shrugged and glanced again at the dead man lying next to her on the table. "You know, word of mouth."

"But I didn't tell anyone that would tell the Marauders nor did I tell any Marauder for that matter," Torn said, "I can't fucking stand them."

"Well, either way, they probably heard about your slave and thought of the intended murder as retribution for Haven for building casinos and resorts in the Icelands and forcing them out and to settle in the desert." said Erol in a matter-of-fact tone, taking back his place in his seat.

Chandee sighed. "Is it me, or there is something strange going here? Why all of the sudden the Marauders are choosing to act up? And why after your father left— "

"Because they are a bunch of bloodthirsty thugs and they're scared shitless of Father!" Erol said and eyed Chandee with suspicion glinting in his eyes. "Why you ask?"

Chandee narrowed her eyes at her older cousin. "Before you accuse me of saying your father is capable treason and treachery, I am going to say and declare that I was nowhere close to saying such a outrageous thing. I was actually going to suggest that you could contact your father and inform him of what is occurring in Spargus and persuade him to come home. That way maybe the Marauders—"

Erol interrupted Chandee's suggestions with an abrupt snort before bursting into loud laughter that took a couple of moments and caused his kin to either roll their eyes at him or stare at him in disbelief. Once his mirth died down, Erol placed one foot on the table and cause the piece of furniture and the body on it to shake a little. He stared at his cousin with his glowing and amused yellow-brown eyes and he said, "Do you actually think _that_ is possible? Contact him—Hey? Hey! Where are you two going?" This question he directed towards Ashelin and Kaylenn who were about to walk out of the room.

Both turned to face him but Ashelin answered with a slightly offended expression plastered on her tattooed face. "Did you forget that there are Marauders out there kidnapping children? And not only that, they're already sneaking into the _palacio_? Who's to say if they soon start kidnapping Kaylenn's children or Jelena? It's already near dark, we're going out and make the children come in."

Erol shrugged and waved his hand in a dismissing manner. "Fine, go find your daughter Ashelin. Same thing goes for you Kaylenn. Don't bother looking for mine, I already know they're in here."

After that, both sent grateful nods toward Erol and walked out of the meeting room and shut the door with a loud bang. Erol leaned back in his chair for a bit and placed another foot on the table and crossed his legs. He yawned for a bit before he said, "So what we were we talking about…oh wait now I remember, Father. Anyway, we tried to contact him before many times, he never answers nor does he even carry a communicator with him!"

Aza's brown orbs squinted in confusion and curiosity. "Why?"

"Because he uses this time, especially this month," Torn decided to speak up after spending a while dealing with his thoughts. "to go up to _Las montañas santas, _the Holy Mountains to pray to the gods for success in future battles. '

Aza's golden eyebrow shot up. "Your Father? A religious man?"

"Don't bother," Erol said and he rose from his seat and he glanced at the Marauder's cadaver before focusing his attention on Torn. "You take your friend here and have his body impaled on a stake and have him placed along with the trespassers at the city's borders. Just so his friends get the message on underestimating Spargan might."

Torn nodded and began to shove the motionless invader off the table. Erol continued and directed at Chandee and Aza: "You two go down to Kleiver and tell him to recruit more new soldiers for the army and work more on the vehicles. I think I might use the Dune Hopper for later. As for me, I'm going to search for Jinx and ask him to ask his father for a couple of new imports of explosives from Haven City."

Aza and Chandee both inclined their heads to their cousin before Chandee said, "We'll try to talk to our father, but I don't think he'll…acquiesce to your demands because he's rather been…on edge lately…"

"If it's about those damn rodents raiding his shops, he needs to stop bitching and worry about his city and tribe." Erol quickly interjected growled as he walked out with Torn trailing behind him dragging the Marauder's body without any problems. Aza soon followed after and with Chandee close behind her and shut the door behind her. Both failed to notice an odd orange creature's tiny paws touch the floor underneath the table and the creature itself glancing around its surroundings to make sure the coast was clear.

When it was, Daxter stepped out from under the furniture and stared at the door for a moment and saying to himself, "So, Jelena's Ashelin's daughter? If that so, then whose the father?"

He allowed the question to be left to the room to be answered and he sauntered to the door and gently opened it and looked both ways to see if anyone noticed an Ottsel stepping out of the meeting room. He looked up at the ceiling and towards the heavens, hoping the Precursors could see him and hear his thoughts seeking forgiveness from them for breaking his promise of Tess. He also sent an apology mentally to the blonde Wastelander who has been so kind to him ever since he has been in the Spargan palace.

'Sorry Tess.' Daxter thought before he walked into the hallway and turned right hoping to find any of Spargan Royals and discover more information about Jelena's past.

-------------------

Keira sniffed and wiped away the obvious evidence of tears from her left cheek. She then pulled her face closer to the mirror to inspect the prominent vines of red veins among the irises of her eyes. She grimaced before a pale hand reached up and gently trace a very red mark on her neck, which quickly brought memories that caused shame to rear its ugly head and seize her heart again.

The green-haired maiden sighed and turned around to pick up a robe she discarded earlier. The light blue garb of silk rippled in the air as she whipped it open before she slipped it over her nude form but not tying it around her and revealing half-covered breasts and her private area. Keira ran her hand through her green locks as she glanced around at the disordered room of her mistress and made sounds of disapproval at the scattered clothes, messy sheets, etc. Before the Princess of Haven could make an effort of cleaning she heard the door make a loud creak as though in protest to the entrance of whomever was entering and suddenly Keira felt the urge to quickly cover herself and oblige to the need before turning around to whoever decided to enter.

Instead of Ashelin who left earlier for business and Keira expected to enter, she end up looking down and staring down at the furry and orange frame of her cousin Daxter. Keira's ivory cheeks burned intense red at her cousin's bewildered features but spoke up despite her embarrassment, "Um…Daxter…what are you doing here?"

Daxter blinked a couple of times before he shook his head and turned around and appeared to be on his way out. He muttered, "Umm…just was looking for someone…"

Keira's face grew curious. "Who? That blonde Wastelander…?"

"Tess?"

"That's her."

"But uh, no, I wasn't looking for her…" Daxter said still not looking at her.

Keira's eyes narrowed. "Then who, Daxter? And why won't you look at me?"

"'Cause…I'm on my way out and you shouldn't be worried 'bout who I'm looking for. It's got nothing to with ya…it's 'bout Lena."

"Oh." Was all that Keira said and she leaned against a pillar. Curiosity began to force away the shame and self-damning. The Wastelander servant girl? What important affair or secret could be tied to her? Suddenly, a plan was being calculated into her mind of how to coax Daxter of blurting out whatever was on his mind. Ironically, Daxter had a big mouth, but when it came to a secret especially involving a friend such as Tess, he becomes as big as a mute as Jak was when he was very young.

A pleasant and understanding smile was plastered on her lovely face and she said, "Oh, that's okay Daxter, I already know about Jelena."

Daxter's orange head whipped around and his large eyes narrowed in suspicion. How could Keira know Jelena's secret when she barely knew the girl and was in Spargus for only three days? "I don't believe you."

Keira's smile grew bigger. "No really. I know all about Jelena and…" now she had to take a guess. "Ashelin…"

Daxter's eyes widened and his ears flattened back. He did not expect that. "You mean…"

"Yes…'

"You know that Jelena's Ashelin's daughter?"

"… "

"Keira…? Keira…wait, w-w-what are you doing!"

End of Chapter Eight

Author's Notes:

(1)_ Tierra mía_ is Spanish for 'My land.'

(2)_ Cerdo_ is Spanish for either 'pig' or 'bastard.'

Yeah, I know folks, it's been a while. A very long while. I apologize for the long delay, I was caught with up with other things and suffering writer's block once again. Hopefully, you'll find it in your hearts to forgive me. Anyways, another chapter heading your way and this I'll make sure this one won't take as long. Also, please don't send me texts from the Bible like someone did (I'm not saying who).


	10. Author's Note

Hey everyone, I'm sorry if you came here expecting another chapter, but I'm afraid chapter nine will have to wait. My dog, that I had ever since I was eight, has died. Died yesterday. On _Thanksgiving_, died of a heart attack. Right now, I'm still feeling raw, hurt, ripped open, and empty and everywhere I look, I'm reminded of him. Either way, chapter nine may or may not take a while, since I need a period of time to grieve, for my lil' babe, Caliph (pro. Ky-leef).

I will love you always and forever, and I will miss you. You brought me comfort, you listened when no one else would, best of all, you were my best friend and a brother to me. God bless you, God speed, and I pray I will meet you again in the world after. Not now, but later, and I promise we will go to a beach and run wild and free.

Always, Dacy


	11. Chp 9: Only Storms Can Rage and Cry

Yes, I have returned from the dead. I apologize for taking a year to update this story, but I got busy and the case of writer's block. But now I'm back with another chapter, much to your delight and slash-haters and homophobes' dismay, (not that I care about them). Also, I'm sure many of you are wondering what happened to Sig or did I take him out of the story. Never fear! He's here in this chapter. Also, I promise all fans of Jinx that he will appear too and he will not disappear into the dark.

Anyway, before we get to the reading and so on, I need to explain that I do not own the Jak and Daxter Series and they belong under the copyright of Naughty Dog. Also, again send me reviews, be they positive or critiques, but don't send me flames or preach to me using the Bible or tell me what I am doing is wrong. All I will do is laugh at your obvious evidence of not reading my warnings and your Bible quotes will be ignored. But if you so happened to give me a full out teaching with textual examples of the Bible, please do give me your penname so that I may thank you for your vain and futile attempts in converting or taming my 'wicked' ways.

Other than that, read my 'evil' writing, beloved readers!

Chapter Nine: Only Storms Can Rage and Cry

"Keira! Keira! Keirrraaa!" Daxter's voice boomed as he ran out of the bedchamber, attempting to call back the running form of his cousin. The green-haired maiden continued in a mad and determined dash straight forth and away from the room.

Daxter ceased in his calling back for his relative. His head hung low and his Ottsel ears drooped low, as his eyes latched unto the floor with disinterest.

'Great, who knows what's Keira gonna do. I hope she won't do anythin' stupid or…worse.'

Daxter's head turned to see that his cousin was long gone, probably off on some undetermined mission with a wide number of emotions bubbling through within her.

Daxter sighed. 'Tess…I hope you can forgive me…'

---------------

_One week later_

"Lemme get this straight: I have to face a series of tests to prove my strength and intelligence? _WHY? _And why _today?_" Jak shot a black look at the pair of nervous steel-gray eyes, as his hand reached over to a bronze tray that sat next to his chair, to pluck a grape from it and pop it into his mouth.

The young man chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before he said, "To prove to Lord Torn you are capable…"

"Again, why I have to prove my abilities? And why for that asshole? And. Why. _TODAY????_" This time, Jak rose up from his seat and was about to stomp his way towards the cowering servant, before a voice interjected.

"Easy, Jak, leave Dorian alone." A slender and long bronze colored hand rose. Immediately and reluctantly, Jak stepped away from the scared servant. The Northerner Prince threw the man another burning gaze before returning to his seat that rested on the left side of the bed. The hand went down and went back to place on resting on a blanket-covered thigh.

Cinnamon-tinted eyes glanced at Jak before returning unto the servant who wore expression of relief. "You may go, Dorian. And tell Shiloh and Luz I said hi."

Dorian nodded before he turned around and fled the room and slammed the door shut.

A slight smile was plastered on pouty light brown lips and the cinnamon eyes gleamed as they cut to Jak. "Honestly, I may not like Dorian, but Jak, that was uncalled for."

Jak sneered, "Uncalled for my ass! Did you hear what he said, Asante? I have to fight and through a series of puzzles and shit? _Today? _Just to impress Torn? For what?"

Asante shrugged. "You heard Dorian. 'To prove you are capable.'"

The Havenite's eyes became slits. "Again, why do I have to prove I am capable? And capable of what?"

An expression of blankness flashed over Jak's countenance. He then blinked his blue orbs and then a suspicious gleam was lit within them as they stared at Asante. He stated: "You knew about this."

Asante sighed. He reached behind his back and the white pillow he was resting against to fluff it up more. "I knew about the tradition, not the fact you have to fight and stuff."

Jak snorted and slouched in his seat. He crossed his arms. "So this is another Wastelander tradition I have to deal with?"

The young man in bed nodded. "Yep, it's an ancient tradition with the Spargan Royal Family and nobles. To have slaves face a series of trials that deal with the body. It used to be required among nobles and the Royal Family to have their slaves go through such tests, but it was abolished decades ago, because many slaves lost their lives. And really, I'm surprised to hear that Torn wants you to face the trial, he's usually not interested in keeping up traditions. Why he picked today, and decided not to tell you, I have no clue, but I'm suspecting it's to heighten your adrenaline or something along the lines…"

Jak then asked, "Did Kaylenn have you put through the trials?"

As soon as the question slipped from Jak's mouth, he instantly regretted it. Asante's eyes were downcast. His hand went to his face and pushed a few stray strands of raven tresses behind his elongated ear, revealing a large and furious black imprint of a fist that swallowed his right eye.

Jak winced at the sight of the obvious injury. He said in a soft voice, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't—"

"No, no, it's okay."

Jak sighed and glanced at the door a few feet away from away before looking around the room. "Where is that damn doctor?"

Asante shrugged. "I dunno. And no, Kaylenn didn't have me fight to prove my worth. He told me—" a nostalgic smile washed over the saddened features for a short moment, before a frown settled on swollen lips. He started playing with the sheet that covered his lower half. "Never mind. Anyway, usually masters have the slaves endure these tests to see if the slave is capable of protecting his or her master or mistress, their family, an item of great value, or…" Asante's brown pools widened, his bronze skin pigmentation began to pale and his ears dropped a little. He then glanced at Jak's concerned and surprised face with narrowed and suspicious eyes.

"Jak…" Asante began. "…did Torn take you to someone yesterday or some days ago?"

At first, Jak was taken back by the question and was about throw an inquiry at the Wastelander about it before the an image of a young woman with slanted lavender eyes, skin of sun-kissed bronze and long hair of clear blue skies sneaked into his mind. Jak's lips opened and were about to speak.

The doors to the room burst opened and two guards came into the room. Jak's eyes squinted at one of the sentinels and instantly recognized him as the gray-eyed guard from the night when lost his virginity. The gray-eyed guard's orbs held no interest or fascination as they stared down at Jak. No emotion was present in those pools.

"Get up." The guard commanded. "_Señor_ Torn wants you to come to the Arena, _now_."

Before Jak could make any protest, the guard grabbed his arm and dragged the blond out of his seat. Before Asante could say anything, the two guards were hauling Jak out of the room.

Asante exhaled loudly and shook his head. He sat up and spun around to place his bare feet on the floor before he slipped his brown flip-flop sandals on and stood up. The Wastelander's eyes head towards the ceilings and implored: "Gods, please let Jak come out of this alive and protect him."

----------------

Keira cast a worried and observing gaze across the entire stadium, her eyes trailing to the large hordes of Wastelanders and other people of different nationalities and ethnicities fill in the stadium's rows. Her eyes became wide emerald slates and her pale skin turned a few shades paler as they eyed the bubbling lava that surrounded the arena area below.

The former Princess murmured, "I can't believe this…"

"I can." A familiar female voice simply said.

Keira turned to see Tess emerging from the balcony's entrance with Daxter sitting on her shoulder. The blonde then maneuvered to and sat in the seat that was situated on Keira's right side.

Keira's eyebrow shot up. "Tess? What are you doing here? Why aren't you sitting up there with your cousins?" She then tilted her head up to another balcony that sat a few inches above and diagonally across from theirs. In the platform sat Kor's hellish offspring, their cousins (including Jinx) and Jelena.

Tess and Daxter glanced at her family and her lips formed a frown while Daxter shot a glare at them. She looked back at Keira and shook her head. "I don't want to sit with them. Erol, Kaylenn, and Aza get very rowdy when they watch Arena fights, while Chandee and Jinx bet on how long the fighter will live, Torn just…watches with…something in his eyes, I don't know what it is, but it creeps me out and I don't know what happened between Ashelin and Jelena, but there's some serious tension between those two. I-I-I-I mean, as far as a relationship between a servant girl and mistress goes…And not only that, with the exception of Jelena, my cousins wouldn't appreciate it if I was supporting Jak."

Keira forgot that Tess probably didn't know that she was already aware of Jelena's identity and was surprised at the fact that Daxter did not tell the blonde Wastelander of her discovery. Speaking of Daxter, Keira glanced at her animal cousin, and her heart nearly dropped when she noticed the mien on his face.

This time, the Ottsel Prince was wearing a somber look on his furry face instead of an expression that dripped sarcasm, arrogance, humor or happiness. Keira's upper lip twitched as her eyes met Daxter's before the Ottsel jumped off his blonde friend's shoulder and unto the ledge, gazing at the Arena below.

Keira sighed and returned her gaze onto Tess. "Anyway, what you'd said earlier…what did you mean?"

The sad look on Tess' countenance deepened. "I wouldn't put it past my cousins to not throw any person into the Arena and not care to warn them ahead of time, to have his trials displayed to the public, and not care at all if he has any experience."

Keira sighed in relief. "Well, my father did allow Jak to train with Sig and other guards to learn how to fight."

Fresh tears dripped down Keira's pale cheeks, as she watched the Arena that might be end up being her cousin's deathbed in the next couple of hours. "But still this is wrong…"

"But that doesn't matter to the Wastelanders," piped a Copselander-accented voice.

Everyone turned to see Bera (A/N: Remember her?), Vika, Asante, and Keme to be standing in the entrance to the balcony.

"What are you guys doing here?" Daxter asked, for the first in his life, not being rude but being curious.

"We heard about your brother." Keme said. "Though this isn't the first time Erol and his siblings did this, we didn't come to give moral support to the poor souls that entered the Arena," a guilty and sad look melted unto his face. "but we can't allow another to die and not do anything about it…even if we just watch from the sidelines and give our support…"

Keira's lips quivered into a half smile while Daxter's sad face brightened just a smidgen and a ghost a smile appeared on Tess' face before she glanced at Asante and saw black bangs conceal the right half of his face. Her blue eyes met with his brown ones, and he quickly turned away and then went to take a seat that was behind both her seat and Keira's seat, while Bera chose to be situated next to the blonde Spargan royal and Keme sat on the chair on Keira's left. Vika sat on Asante's right.

Tess leaned over to the blue-haired Marauder and whispered while glancing back to be sure that Asante did not hear her question, "What's up with Asante?"

Bera's thin lips worked into a small frown and sighed. She leaned over to Tess' waiting ear and responded, "You don't wanna know, but let's just say Kaylenn was involved…"

Instantly, Tess felt a bubble of rage burst inside her as she already drew her own conclusions of what her cousin did to her friend. All she could see was driving her pale fist into Kaylenn's face and sending a world of pain and hurt down upon him. However, shortly after, the ire was dissolved by her voice of reason that rationalized that she would make the situation worse for her family and her friend if she interfered. Instead, she glanced up at the balcony her cousins sat and was surprised to see Kaylenn bearing his crimson orbs down at Asante who appeared oblivious or feigned to be oblivious to his blank and burning gaze. Tess shook her head and turned her attention unto the Arena.

"This is a distraction. A blood offering of a distraction," Bera suddenly said and all eyes were on her. She went on, "Torn never cared for traditions, but now he decided to have a heart for the old ways?"

Keme's hazel orbs squinted in confusion. "What do you mean, Bera?"

"Think about what is happening right now: Marauders are kidnapping Spargan children and causing more trouble for other Wastelanders as well, Kor is still gone and the Metal Heads have been getting out of hand, Wastelander temples are being destroyed left and right, and not only that, other Wastelander tribes and cities are being plagued by some mysterious illness, and Wastelander leaders are bickering among one another, not knowing what do and blaming the other as well."

Small trails of tears ran down Keria's countenance. "But why!"

Bera slightly glared at Keira. "You still don't get it. Death and entertainment, especially death _as_ a form of entertainment, is a good way to distract the public from noticing the problems, to question authority, to prevent an uprising or suspicion of corruption. You forget I am a Marauder, I watched the human sacrifices. The priests of my religion used them as a way to convince the public that they were 'devout' and 'loyal' to the Gods and as a cover to hide that they were more powerful and wealthy than the chieftain himself, instead of 'humble and poor creatures of the Gods'."

Suddenly, an explosion of cheers emerged from the various lips of the crowd and made the whole stadium tremble and dissolved the sounds of bubbling lava. The sudden wave of noise alerted and unnerved the five slaves, the Ottsel and blonde Wastelander that Jak's fate will be displayed in the Arena and be determined by deadly trials.

All eyes were drawn unto the small figure of a blond man stepping onto a platform. Jak looked up and a sneer became present as he saw his captors looking at him with indifferent faces or gleaming looks of smoldering bloodlust.

Erol smirked at the blond slave before he addressed the roaring crowd. "Hail good citizens of Spargus! Once again, I welcome you to the Arena of Death to now partake in the pleasure of watching fair Jak Mar—" Jak glared at the yellow-eyed man with indignation at the 'compliment'. "the former Prince of fallen Haven City and now…'servant' of Prince Torn fight for his life, like many previous and pathetic slaves, in the famous and ancient _Las pruebas_ (1) To prove if he is worthy to stay among us _AND_—" Erol turned to throw a smirk at Torn, who was watching his bondsman with an impassive face. "— to prove if he can protect my wittle bwother Tornie."

Laughter rose in a tidal wave and echoed in the Arena, while a low growl rumbled from Torn's throat. Even Erol's cousins joined in on the laugh while Ashelin and Tess and her slave friends rolled their eyes and did not see anything humorous in the joke. Ashelin because really she did not share the sense of humor that Erol has. Tess, Daxter and Keira and the slaves, on the other hand, did not laugh because they were too busy eyeing the lava that surrounded the arena with apprehension and worry.

"Anyway, let the fun begin!" Erol announced and once again the crowd roared and Jak sighed and turned away from his captors. He stepped unto the platform to his right, and tried to ignore that his heartbeat was drumming in his ears as the platform brought him down.

When Jak was presented the sight of what he had to face, his eyes widened as he saw the obstacle course before him.

It was large and stretched at least twenty to forty feet in the air or so above the lava and looked about to be a bunch of wood, metal scrapes and other types of crap jumbled together to make a (possibly purposeful) poor excuse of an obstacle course.

'So what the fuck do I have to do on this piece of shit?' Jak thought as he walked up towards the obstacle course. He then saw there was a high ledge the loomed over him by a couple of inches.

'So all I have to do is jump?' Jak thought incredulously as he looked up at the ledge. He glanced back at his captors and sent a hateful gaze at Torn. 'I'll make sure to kick his ass after this.'

Jak crouched a little and pushed a little bit of his weight on the balls of his feet before pushing himself up and jumped unto the ledge with no problems. This series of similar jumps continued on for the next couple of minutes until he came across a rickety looking bridge. Taking a leap of faith, he scurried across the bridge and saw a shoddy-looking ladder wink in the short distance. As soon as his feet touched the other side of the bridge, he leaped unto the ladder and climbed it in a manner of seconds.

As he stood on the top of ledge, Jak was presented with the sight of another ledge that higher than the previous ones. At first, the thought of going somewhere else was appealing, before Jak realized that he could reach the top of the ledge with a simple double-jump. So, he crouched real low before he pushed himself off the platform's floor and rocketed high into the air and landing gracefully on the ledge. Jak then jumped unto two more platforms without thinking deeply about the action.

Jak's blue eyes trailed up to see the next ledge was too high for him to jump. He sighed before he began to look around and his eyes cut to a tall and moving platform that moved in a side-to-side motion. He then took a quick look down and boiling hot lava bubbling threateningly at him.

The blond elf cut a look at the platform that held the Spargan Royals and saw Kaylenn ('At least that's what I remember his name to be'), and two stunning Wastelander women, one with dark-skin and long, straight black hair and one with tanned skin and wavy blonde hair were all leaning against the edge, their eyes burning with yellow orange embers of malicious glee. Their eyes were goading him, saying _Come on, jump. Jump and fall to your burning death. _Erol, Ashelin, Torn and some blond male Wastelander who had some dirty vibes attached to him were looking at him with some undetermined emotions pouring through their eyes, while Jelena ('What is she doing there?') was eyeing him with concern lit in her violet orbs.

Jak turned away from their gazes and focused his attention unto the moving platform. He took a leap of faith and quickly sent a fast prayer to Precursors before he pitched forward over to the platform. He barely heard the crowd holding their breath as flew in the air before he landed perfectly on the platform. A wave of boos and cheers swam into his ears, but Jak ignored the noises and vaulted up to the next ledge, his feet hitting the floor with a loud thud.

Surprisingly, Jak was not presented with the sight of another platform to jump on and just saw blank, wide and open space of junk lying beneath his feet. That is until he glanced to his right and saw another ledge that stood a good distance away from him. Jak took a few steps back before sprinting with all the speed his body could produce. He was barely a few feet away from the ledge before he rolled and cannoned himself across the distance and his feet touched the floor before he did another roll jump to another ledge.

Jak stood still for a couple of moments, trying to catch his breath and slow down his heartbeat. He felt a heavy sheet of perspiration dripped down his face and lifted his hand to wipe away the sweat. He sent thanks to his deities for keeping him alive so far and hoped they will continue to do so. He scanned the area and saw no ledges or platforms, or anything at all.

---------------

Meanwhile, Keira sighed in relief and smiled, along with Daxter, at their relative. "Thank Precursors, he's still alive."

Asante snorted. "This is just the light stuff. The harder parts are gonna come soon. He's not out of the ringer just yet."

The smiles on both Keira and Daxter's faces melted off completely.

---------------

'I guess that's it for me. Maybe I'm done for' Jak thought hopefully. The thought quickly died as looked up and saw his captors silently tease him with looks that basically told him he was not finished, while Jelena shook her head, as though he was a child that did not understand what was going on.

Jak exhaled and cursed under his breath and looked around again until his eyes came across a suspicious-looking and large patch of some odd material. He cautiously walked up to the patch and immediately felt it barely holding his weight. Jak leaped high into the air and flipped into the air before his fist burst through the material and he fell below to another to another area.

Jak ignored the heat that tried to suffocate and walked forward and came into a small clearing. To his amazement and relief, a platform shot up from the lava.

Sounds of shock, along with cheers, claps and boos shook the stadium, even as Jak got unto the platform. Then silence and tension claimed the stadium as Jak jumped off the platform and unto the platform before Kor's family. He faced the surprised and shocked faces of Kaylenn, Jinx, Aza, Erol, Chandee, the amused mien that poured off of Ashelin's face, the unimpressed expression that Torn wore and Jelena's small and relieved face, with a smug look.

--------------

Daxter jumped into the air, pumping his fist before he began to dance. "That's right! He's bad!" Daxter grinned smugly at his companions. "The boy hasn't forgotten what I taught 'im."

Keme shook his head, with a frown on his face. "Daxter, didn't you hear what Asante said earlier? This isn't over…"

Daxter's good mood quickly died and he hung his head. "Oh."

---------------

Meanwhile, Erol shook the shocked look off his face and a sneer replaced its position on his face. "So…you won the challenge. How shocking…"

Torn crossed his arms and turned to his older brother with a sneer of his own. "You called _that_ a challenge? Honestly Erol, you're more a shithead than I thought you were…"

A couple of chuckles emerged from Torn's cousins and sister before a swift look from Erol made them shut their mouths. Erol's eyebrow shot up. "You're unimpressed, little brother? You have to admit for a Havenite, he's athletic."

Torn snorted and rolled his eyes before he faced his slave. "_Puuuhleeeze_…! Anyone can make a few lousy jumps, even a skinny-ass Havenite. You just proved to me that if I wanted someone to play Hopscotch with, I can turn to you."

Jak glared indignantly at Torn's words and said through his teeth "Well, I'm sorry your _Highness_, is there anything I can do to change that?"

The corners of Torn's lips twitched into a smirk and immediately Jak was about to frown before refusing to show his emotions before the Wastelander. Torn turned and nodded at Ashelin. A sneaky grin formed on her lips. She commanded to someone somewhere, "Prepare the matter formers! Prepare the Arena for full combat!"

Jak's pointy ears drooped low and Jelena gasped and stared at her cousin Torn with horror.

'Full…combat?' Jak thought with dread and his eyes slightly widened as he watched Torn reach behind his seat and pull out a Scatter Gun. _His_ Scatter Gun.

Torn teasingly shook the weapon in his hand at the blond, grinning toothily at him. "Recognize this? Kaylenn here," Torn tilted his head at his grinning and red-eyed cousin. "says you had it with you on the day you were captured. Y'know what I want you to do with it?"

Jak bit his bottom lip and attempted and managed not to squirm uncomfortably at the dangerous flash of yellow in Torn's eyes.

Torn threw the gun to Jak and the blond-haired elf caught easily.

Keira's eyes widened and she and Daxter looked at each other in horror, while the others lowered or shook their heads. Jak was going to have to kill people.

Torn's grin grew wider and Jak noticed that there were _fangs_ that sparkled brilliant white as more teeth were revealed. "Let's see if you can fare against the living."

The crowd gasped before it roared with cheers and applause at Torn's announcement, while Jelena stared at Jak with worry, while blood drained from Jak's face and he traced his fingers over his gun.

Jinx cocked an eyebrow in amusement and said, "What's wrong, babe? You gonna wet yerself? Is yer conscience getting' to ya?"

Cerulean eyes snapped to the snarky Wastelander and hardened. Jak said, "No, that's fine," he cocked his gun and glared, "bring'em on."

Erol smirked and dismissed the blond with a wave of his hand.

Jak turned to his right again and stepped unto the platform again. The platform shivered before it moved down. As Jak waited to go down, he felt his heart rock hard against his chest, hearing nothing but the muscle pumping uncontrollably in his ears.

This time, obstacle course was gone and now a more common fighting Arena took its place. Shacks were placed all around the area and four steel boxes were placed around the Arena in a circle. Jak's curiosity and dread was piqued.

As soon as Jak entered the Arena, all doors of the shacks opened and out popped four identical-looking masked Marauders, carrying massive and wicked-looking blades, bearing jagged and hideous scars. The men quickly and stupidly went after Jak, raising their swords in the air, giving out battle cries. Jak pulled the trigger, and all four foes went flying across the Arena, already dead.

A quick wave of sadness washed over Jak before his ears twitched. He turned around to see another Marauder coming after him. The Havenite Prince fired again and sent another one to his death. The doors opened again and out spat four more Marauder warriors.

'Please…no…' Jak pleaded to his deities. The massive men inched closer to him.

The massive opponents came at Jak. He said to his unseen Gods. 'Please forgive me for this.'

One Marauder rushed his way towards the blond-haired elf. Jak stood his ground, waiting for his opponent to come closer to him. The Marauder raised the spiked sword high in the air and howled. When he was a couple inches away from the Prince, he swung the sword and would have sliced Jak in half, if he did not roll out of the way. The Marauder growled at his mistake and intended to stab the slighter elf again. This time, Jak jumped and climbed on top of the sword, much to the audience's and Marauder's surprise. He delivered a quick roundhouse kick to the warrior's head, causing the stunned man to fall to the ground. For a final blow, Jak climbed on top of the warrior's wide chest and took the man out with a shot of the Scatter Gun. The Prince was about to vomit at the sight of the head exploding and watching brain matter, blood and pieces of skull paint the Arena floor. The crowd however, hailed as loudly as they could, reveling at the sight of violence.

The slaves on the private balcony, on the other hand, were not very amused. Asante turned his head away at the grotesque scene. Keira and Keme held each other and closed their eyes shut, ignoring the sounds of gunshots and death. Tess' and Vika's complexions were paler than usual and Daxter and Bera watched the battle waging before them with disbelief.

A shrill and sharp ringing seized Jak's attention and he turned his head to see one Marauder jump unto one of steel blocks. He glanced down and saw globs of lava being spat out through holes placed in the Arena floor. Without a moment's hesitation, he rushed to one block and jumped on and watched with sympathy and horror as lava filled the Arena and three Marauder warriors fell to a painful and melting death.

Soon the lava subsided, and the monotonous cycle continued for half an hour: Jak kills for a couple of minutes, lava rises, get out of the way of lava, wait for lava to disappear, Jak kills again and tries to survive.

When the lava dissipated however, Jak looked around and saw no more Marauder warriors spilling from the shacks. Yet he could not shake off the ominous feeling that he was not finished. Jak's ears twitched again when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned around, his finger ready to pull the trigger, until he dropped the gun in shock.

There stood before him was Sig, sneering at him, and aiming his Peacemaker gun at him.

--------------

Keira and Daxter stared in shock at the sight of their friend and bodyguard.

"Sig?" Keira shouted, still watching scene with horror and shock reflecting in her eyes.

"You know him?" Vika asked.

"He was bodyguard before…before we came here…" Keira responded, still gazing at the Arena below.

"What's he doin' there?" Daxter questioned no one in particular.

"To kill Jak, obviously," Asante answered. "Should've known they were going to pull this trick…"

Keira and Daxter turned to him. Kiera was the first to ask. "What do you mean 'trick'?"

"Just watch…"

---------------

"Sig? What are you doing? Don't you recognize me?" Jak asked and pleaded with the darker-skinned and taller elf. Quickly, Jak felt stupid for asking the question because the former Guard of the Haven City Royal Family glared at him with a blank and expressionless green eye.

'He's been brainwashed…' the dreaded thought and idea was quickly transferred to his mind. Jak then pondered: 'But who or what's controlling him?'

Jak did not have enough time to deduce what was or who was controlling his friend as said friend pull the trigger and a large purple of ball of sparks flew at him. Jak, thankfully and swiftly, dodged the shot with a back flip.

The citizens of Spargus all gasped and were taken by shock at the Havenite's sudden move. Sure it was one thing to jump across a rickety and shoddy obstacle course, but to evade the shot of a Peacemaker? That was amazing and for a Havenite, one of a race the Wastelanders believed to be weak in athletics, to avoid the blast of such a powerful gun, was astounding.

For another half an hour, Sig performed an onslaught of numerous attacks and shots at Jak, who continued to dodge every single time. However, the Prince never made the attempt to attack the manipulated man, hoping and trying to discover the source that was driving his friend to such a focused and frenzied rage.

Sig spun his huge gun around and around before he cried out and swung the weapon at Jak. Before the blond-haired elf could think about it, he flipped in the air again and managed to elude another blow that would have knocked him unconscious or brought him a quick death. Jak landed on the Arena floor in a crouch position, both his hands resting against the cool surface. When he was about to rise, Sig then growled and cocked the Peacemaker. The dark-skinned elf then proceeded to approach in slow and focused steps while patiently waiting for the Peacemaker to charge. The gun's barrel glowed and tiny spears of purple lighting gathered around the ball of flashing violet that was gradually growing into a size that would be large and lethal enough to kill Jak.

The Havenite Prince backed away with every step he took, eyeing the horrid sphere of crackling purple lightning with dread and uncertainty of what to do next. But the uncertainty quickly faded as soon as the ball of electricity was released and charged towards Jak. Jak quickly made a roll jump to other side of the Arena, and avoided the blast again. When heroes up and looked back, he saw that one of the shacks sitting outside the Arena circle was obliterated to chunks of wood that were now burning to a crisp by the boiling lava.

Jak sighed in relief. But the feeling of gratitude was cut off as soon as he caught sounds of someone running towards him. He turned to see Sig racing towards him, holding his fist in the air. When Sig was close, he threw a punch Jak quickly avoided with a sidestep and the blond sent a quick kick to Sig's stomach, causing him to drop his weapon and have it scraping and gliding across the Arena floor while the former Royal Guard was sailing to the other side of the Arena.

Jak took then took the moment to catch his breath, bending over a bit, his hands resting on his knees. His blue eyes were fixed on the fallen form of Sig who was still recovering from the blow Jak's kick delivered. His eyes then flashed to his Scatter Gun that lied forgotten in the far left corner of the Arena. As soon as his eyes cut to the weapon, thoughts of dread flooded his mind. Jak was unsure what to do now, but he knew he could not bring himself to kill Sig but he was also aware of the situation he was currently in, that being in an Arena filled to the brim of Wastelanders that were watching/expecting him to fight, kill or die and knew they would be pissed as hell if their bloodlust was not satiated.

So now, Jak had to make a decision and quick as he could hear the crowd booing and shouting out to him what to do. He either have to kill Sig and have his conscience and the dark-skinned elf's ghost haunt him for the rest of his existence or let Sig kill him and have his uncle's most trusted guard deal with guilt and his mourning cousin and brother and have his said relatives be alone in and cope with being in unfamiliar land fill with people who hate your race's guts.

However, the blond-haired did not have enough time to make his choice as Sig awakened with a groan and sat up, gingerly rubbing his stomach. Within a couple of moments, he rose to his feet, wincing at the slight pain that shot up his legs. When he was finished adjusting to consciousness and his injuries, Sig's eyes lock unto Jak and immediately the taller male bellowed and charged at Jak again.

Jak tried to run to the side and avoid Sig's hands, but much to his disappointment and the audience's delight (he heard the boom of cheers), Sig's hand latched unto Jak's slender arm and used it to haul and hold Jak in the air. The former prince of Haven City made every attempt to release himself from Sig's iron grip but no profit was gain.

As Jak continued to struggle out of Sig's grasp, Keira was now out of her seat, her eyes pouring waterfalls of tears down her face as she watched the scene to unfold before her. Daxter was chewing on his nails, a trait that he always has and does anytime he was frightened or very upset. Tess hid her face behind her hands, trying to block anything that will happen to be grotesque and violent. The other slaves that sat on the balcony with the former royal children of Haven and the cousin of Kor's children watched the scene with fear and concern. The Spargan Royals along with their cousins (with the exception of Jelena) were watching the sight with amusement and delight, while the young Wastelander girl sent a whispered prayer to her deities to please keep Jak alive.

Sig then tossed the blond, sending him to fly across the Arena. His body then skidded against the floor and his back collided harshly against the short walls of the Arena. Jak groaned as a huge knife of pain speared through his back. His blue eyes flew up to see Sig standing a few inches away from him, set aglow again, waiting to be fully charged.

New strategies and ideas began to swim in and out of Jak's mind as his eyes took in the ball of electric particles expanding and dominating his line of vision. He heard the crowd's cheering exploding in his ears, the Wastelanders becoming eager and impatient for death, but Jak then tune the sound out as he glanced at Sig's fingers and saw his index finger latch onto the trigger.

Jak lowered his head, not as a signal in defeat, but in resignation. He mentally counted from one to ten, awaiting for a death of electrocution and burning. When he got to seven, another wave of sound flooded his ears, and the origin was not human. It was a light beeping sound, a noise one would hear from a device. A device that Jak knew was nearby and was the thing that turned Sig into a killing machine with control of his subconscious whatsoever.

He lifted his head and turned his attention unto Sig's digits again and saw the index finger began to slowly the trigger. If Jak chose to sit in his present place, the blond would have suffered the displeasure and pain of knowing the power of the Peacemaker. But the Prince managed to crouch and roll away, just before the electrically charged blast slammed into a shack that was behind him and had in turned into debris that disintegrated as it met lava.

Jak's sudden evasion move did give a rise of a mixture of reactions from the spectators of the stadium. The Wastelander citizens were set in between of yelling out cheers, boos and sounds of surprise. The Spargan Royal and Family and their cousins were caught in amazement, shock, and relief (on Jelena and Tess' parts). The slaves of the Spargus City Palace expelled from their mouths sighs of relief as they watched the sequence.

Jak turned around to look at Sig in order to see if his plan was successful and his suspicion was correct. The dark elf stood in the same spot, paralyzed by some unknown force and reason, for a small eternity. Sig then lifted up his head and Jak saw his head maneuvering it left to right, again and again. Jak then came to the conclusion that his theory was correct as Sig glanced down at his weapon.

Sig turned around and his good eye doubled in size and it fastened unto the blond-haired elf. Shock and horror sparked within that one eye. The Peacemaker then plopped to the floor with a loud clang.

Gasps rose up from the lips of audience and filled the air as the crowd watched the action. The eyes of citizens and other spectators immediately cut to the balcony of which held Erol and his relatives. Jelena watched the two below with sympathy and worry, while the others were staring down with surprise and anger.

Erol, along with his brother and sister, quickly rose up from their seats. Each of their faces turned ugly with anger. He pointed at the two outsiders. "You _dare_ defy the Arena? I command you two to fight to the death! Only _one_ can come out of this Arena alive!"

Torn crossed his arms and his face stayed neutral as he looked at Jak. "So, Blondie it comes down to either you or the Dunner."

Jak turned his face away from his captors refocused his attention unto Sig, who was walking away and towards his forgotten Scatter Gun. Sig picked the negkected weapon up and sauntered to Jak, until they were a couple inches apart. The Scatter Gun was tossed and was reunited in Jak's hands. Sig then bended down to pick up his gun, and his reluctance was evident, as he did the motion slowly.

"Sig, no…" Jak said and Sig's good eye was on him.

"Jak, we have to." The taller male simply said and purple sparks flashed around the Peacemaker's barrel.

"No." Jak firmly said.

"Jak," Sig said a tinge of sadness clear in his voice. "If we don't do this, they'll kill us and your cousin and brother. They can't everyone spared."

Jak's eyes dilated, but only by an inch. "But I don't wanna…"

"And I don't want to either. But I rather die than have you all killed along with me. Just kill me Jak. You gonna have to learn to keep emotions in check and sometimes you just gotta roll wit' being practical."

Jak sighed and cocked his gun. "What would they do if we did refuse to fight?"

Sig sighed as well. "Since we're outsiders and know about the Wasteland, they'll probably toss us into the desert…" Sig lowered his gun and a calculating expression was seen on his face.

Jak's green eyebrows furrowed and he lowered his weapon. "Wait, how do you know that? Sig…?"

Sig turned away from Jak and faced the blond elf's captors' balcony. He whispered to the confused young man. "Jak, just follow my lead and don't say anything. Turn to face the Wastelanders and drop your weapon."

"What…?"

"Dammit, I told you! Just follow my lead and all of us will be out of this hellhole!" Sig whispered back.

Without a moment's hesitation, Jak did as Sig commanded. Simultaneously, they dropped their respective arms to the floor and ignored that gasps echoed across the stadium again.

---------------

Keira's eyes' sizes increased as she watched the scene unfold in front of her. "What are they doing?"

Tess shrugged and her blue pools reflected worry as she glanced at her kin. "I dunno, forfeiting the match, I guess…"

"That's not good…" Keme murmured.

---------------

Erol pounded his fists onto his arms of seats and rose, his siblings following. Fury seethed in Erol's eyes and his lips peeled back to reveal his canine teeth morphing into fangs as he stared down at the two fighters, while Ashelin and Torn and their cousins had cast them faces of curiosity. Erol said, "Sooo, you two share the desire to die, then? Well, we can't deny you your wishes, hmmm?" Erol turned to two guards that stood on the platform that Jak used to enter the Arena. "Guards, 'round up Prince Jak's cousin and brother…"

Meanwhile Keira, Daxter, Tess and the slaves of the palace gaped at Kor's eldest child as they heard his orders, shocked at the turn of events. They watched as the two Guards obediently and immediately went about to follow the command and jumped onto the platform that brought Jak to Arena. They were inches away from jumping over to the balcony that was occupied by the lesser of the Spargus Palace when another unexpected turn was made.

"No! Don't do anything!" Torn shouted and took everyone off guard and by surprise.

The guards stopped in the movements and turned back to confront the youngest of the Royal Trio with wide eyes. In matter of seconds, everyone redirected and focused their attention unto Torn.

Erol glared at his brother and he said in a hushed tone: "What the hell is wrong with you, Torn?"

Ashelin then added: "You know the rules. Why are you sparing him? You can always find another hole to plow into."

Torn's eyes grew small and burned an icy blue as he glared at his siblings. "This isn't about my sex life or concern for Jak. You're giving the blond what he wants."

Kaylenn, eavesdropping on the conversation, could not resist and asked, "What do you mean, Torn?"

Torn glanced at his red-eyed relative before he placed his concentration on all of his relatives that were listening. "The blond wants him and his family to leave Spargus. Now, think about it: What do we do to outsiders when they defy the laws of the Arena?"

Erol sneered at his brother. "You know damn well what we do: We send them to the desert to perish—"

Torn interjected. "Exactly! That's what he wants. He's out of the palace, out of Spargus, and he has the Dunner with him, who used to be his bodyguard. The Dunner has a Peacemaker Gun with him and most likely has military experience. He will be able to protect Jak and his family from the Marauders…"

As soon as Torn's explanation was drawing to a close, realization dawned on his kinfolk's faces. A thoughtful expression was cast on Ashelin's facial features, while his cousins Kaylenn, Jinx, Aza and Chandee looked annoyed, and Jelena gawked at her mother, and two uncles with escalating anticipation and worry. Erol straightened his facial expression and cleared his throat. He turned back to the audience and he whispered to Torn. "Then what should I tell the crowd?"

"Yeah, they'll be pretty pissed if we allowed the Havenite to walk free." Ashelin said, her green eyes trailing over the various faces that made up the citizenry and audience of Spargus.

Erol sighed and closed his eyes for a couple of moments. Afterwards, he reopened them and settled them on Torn. "Torn, you tell them. You're good at spinning shit into gold."

A slight smile tugged at Torn's lips before he turned toward the audience who stayed silent and was waiting for an explanation for the confusing sequence of events. He announced: "Citizens of Spargus! Forgive us for denying you the pleasure of punishment, death and violence, but we have decided to spare to the Havenite and the Dunner!"

Keira and Daxter exhaled in relief and the Ottsel jumped unto his cousin's lap and hugged her. Tess held a hand to her heart, and sent words of thanks to her gods while her slave friends wiped their foreheads in relief as well. Jak and Sig gaped at each other, their faces portraying the shock at the situation. The audience, however, voiced cries of outrage and protest as they heard the announcement. Before a riot could break out, Torn held his hands up and the citizens grew silent again and calmed down. The redheaded male proclaimed again: "We know you are not happy with this decision, but however, the boy proved his worth and strength not just by using his gun and fighting Maruaders, but also refusing to follow orders of a superior when the orders themselves go against his morals."

Everyone that resided in the Spargus Palace stared incredulously at Torn, while the citizens of the desert city grumbled grudgingly in agreement.

Torn continued, "And though his morals may contradict yours, or mine, in the end, it means that a truly strong person is one that does not bend to the will of others."

Once Torn had finished his mini speech, his cousins and siblings, Jak, Sig, Jak's kin, and his fellow slaves still continued in gawking at Torn with incredulity. The audience was silent for awhile, save for one clap that echoed across the stadium. Moments later, two more people followed suit and slowly the Arena was flooded with the sounds of cheers of applause.

Ashelin and Erol smirked at their brother, impressed with his success, while Torn concentrated on Jak's shocked countenance. Torn's blue eyes grew smug and clever as they bore down at Jak and his lips pulled back into a victorious grin.

End of Chapter Nine

Author's Notes:

(1) _Las pruebas_ is Spanish for 'The Trials'. It also can be used to say 'The Tests' as well.

Finally, I am finished with this fucking chapter! People, I apologize for taking a freaking year to update. And I promise that the next update will not be as long. Anyway, please read and review. I shall leave and work on the next chapter and then rest. Peace!


	12. Another Author's Note

Hey guys, I know it's been a while (okay, that's a load of bullshit. It's been_ 3_ years since I wrote a fanfic or updated) and I apologize, but unfortunately I suffered writer's block and went a series of real-life events I won't get into. But I just wanted to let you guys know that I didn't forget about this story or the others, but I'm really at a loss at what to do with this fanfic. I recently looked it over and I realized I made _several _plot holes or inconsistencies and there just some passages that were just downright laughable and made me groan.

I know the plot of the story and how I want it to end, but I'm just not sure about what to do, considering what I mentioned previously of the plot holes and inconsistencies plus uncertainty of how I want to write it down. So, I'm considering these options: 1) Discontinue the story. 2) Upload a new chapter and continue the story and keep it as it is. 3) Rewrite the whole thing.

I created a poll about this and it's on my profile page. Please, I really need your help. This isn't an attention-seeking move; I'm really trying to avoid deleting or discontinuing a story that I put a lot of work into and that others possibly care to read like so many fanfic authors do.


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